RY 

rvOF 

N1A 

EGO 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


LIFE 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


REV.  B.  F.  TEFFT,  D.D.,  LL.IX 

AUTHOR  OF  "HUNGARY  AND  KOSSUTH." 


PHILADELPHIA: 

PORTER    &    COATES. 


Entered  «/vi>T<1in<r  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thousand  eigh*  hundred 

and  Dfty-ioiir, 

BY  MILLEK,  ORTON  &  MULLIGAN. 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Conrt  of  the  Northern  uttn  rict  of  New  York. 


PREFACE. 


SOON  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Webster,  the  students  of  a  literary 
Institution,  of  which  I  then  had  charge,  requested  me  to  address 
them  in  reference  to  the  occasion;  and,  with  a  partiality  natural  to 
young  men  toward  those  having  the  oversight  of  their  education, 
they  requested  a  copy  of  the  address  for  publication. 

Within  a  few  weeks  from  the  time  of  its  publication,  a  proposal 
was  made  to  me,  by  the  most  extensive  inland  publishers  in  this 
country,  to  write  for  them  a  life  of  Daniel  Webster.  The  proposal 
was  declined  ;  but  another  proposition,  to  write  a  volume  on  the  char- 
acter of  Mr.  Webster,  in  the  several  departments  of  his  intellectual 
life  and  labor,  with  specimens  of  his  style  in  each  department,  was 
returned.  These  overtures  led  to  quite  a  correspondence,  and  fi- 
nally to  the  composition  of  the  present  work,  which,  the  reader  will 
perceive,  is  an  enlargement  of  both  propositions  blended. 

It  would  have  been  possible,  perhaps,  in  the  composition  of  the 
first  volume,  which  narrates  the  life  of  the  great  statesman,  to  fol- 
low his  career  more  minutely,  step  by  step,  and  year  by  year,  if  not 
day  by  day,  at  least  from  the  time  when  his  career  became  con- 
nected with  the  history  of  his  country  ;  but  this  sort  of  biography, 
so  common  when  books  were  scarce,  and  when  amusement  rather 
than  instruction  was  the  object  sought  after  by  the  reader,  meets 
not  the  temper  of  an  age,  which,  active  and  busy  to  excess,  has  no 
time  to  waste  on  needless  particulars,  but  hastens  over  tiresome  de- 
tails to  seiz«  upon  the  great  facts  involving  and  demonstrating 
character. 

It  is  the  character  of  Mr.  Webster,  rather  than  the  trivialities  of  his 
experience,  that  now  constitutes,  and  will  ever  constitute,  the  charui 
which  attaches  to  his  name ;  and  for  the  proper  illustration  of  that 
character,  it  is  not  necessary  to  set  lown  everything  that  he  has 


yi  PREFACE. 

ever  said  or  done,  nor  everything  that  has  happened  to  him,  bui 
only  enough  to  exhibit  clearly  each  trait  as  it  rises  successively  to 
view.  Indeed,  a  life  at  all  approaching  the  nature  of  a  diary  could 
have  been  written  by  no  one  but  himself,  or  by  some  individual, 
who,  like  another  Boswell,  should  have  been  constantly  about  him; 
and  such  a  production,  had  it  been  written,  would  have  been  a  work 
by  itself,  but  in  no  sense  supplying  the  want  of  a  biography.  A 
good  biography,  in  fact,  instead  of  being  made  up  of  such  particu- 
lars as  fall  under  the  daily  notice  of  a  valet,  or  body  servant,  or  very 
familiar  friend,  should,  by  the  laws  of  taste,  exclude  such  trivial 
circumstances ;  and,  just  so  far  as  a  person  banishes  all  com- 
mon-place incidents  from  his  mind,  and  rises  to  the  level  of  those 
greater  and  more  public  acts,  which  are  open  to  the  view  of  all, 
does  he  qualify  himself  to  write  such  a  work  as  the  Roman  has  left 
us  of  Agricola. 

These  two  writers,  in  fact,  Boswell  and  Tacitus,  if  names  so  un- 
like will  admit  of  a  temporary  association,  mark  the  two  extremes 
in  biographical  composition.  Boswell,  a  vain  person,  and  anxious 
to  get  himself  into  his  work  as  frequently  as  possible,  relates  every 
good-for-nothing  event  in  the  history  of  his  hero,  as  if  it  were  of 
an}'  consequence  to  the  world  when  the  great  man  went  to  bed  on 
any  given  night,  and  what  he  said  before  leaving  the  company  of 
his  friends,  aud  what  he  saw  after  he  had  reached  his  apartment, 
and  what  clothes  he  took  off  in  his  retirement,  and  how  he  looked 
in  his  night-dress,  and  how  he  appeared  on  rising  the  next  morning, 
and  what  was  the  color  of  the  horse  he  rode  the  next  day  on  hia 
going  to  a  place  of  no  importance,  and  with  people  of  no  conse- 
quence, and  all  the  nameless  little  particulars,  which  might  have 
Happened  to  ten  thousand  other  persons,  and  persons  of  no  special 
ralue,  as  well  as  to  Dr.  Johnson.  Tacitus,  on  the  other  hand,  though 
intimately  acquainted  with  Agricola,  aud  a  member  of  his  family, 
relates  no  familiar  incidents,  tells  no  anecdotes,  reports  no  private 
conversations,  exposes  no  personal  secrets,  and  yet,  in  spite  of  this 
want  of  details,  makes  a  biography,  and  a  biography  which  is  likely 
to  hold  its  place  in  the  admiration  of  the  world,  as  long  as  there  is 
a  scholar  capable  of  reading  and  interpreting  his  language. 

Between  these  two  extremes,  there  is  a  style  of  biographical  com- 
position, which,  while  it  makes  as  much  use  of  particular  incidents 
us  are  essential  to  a  true  exposition  of  general  character,  is  inclined 
to  feel,  in  the  life  of  a  man  long  and  intimately  known,  the  excess 


PREFACE.  Til 

of  this  class  of  materials,  rather  than  the  want  of  them.  To  be  abla 
to  compose  this  higher  species  of  biography,  it  has  been  thought 
that  the  writer  should  by  no  means  have  been  an  intimate  friend, 
or  companion,  or  even  cotemporary  of  the  subject  of  it;  as  it  has 
been  supposed,  that  such  intimacy  fastens  the  little  facts  of  a  life 
in  the  writer's  memory,  to  the  exclusion  or  prejudice  of  those  greater 
ones,  which  are  alone  of  consequence  to  the  more  distant  public,  and 
to  coming  ages. 

A  cotemporary,  or  familiar  friend,  is  exposed  to  other  evils  equally 
deleterious  to  a  correct  and  just  biography.  The  friend  writes  with 
the  partiality  of  a  friend  ;  he  sees,  in  the  composition  of  every  line, 
how  it  is  likely  to  affect  the  family  and  associates  of  his  subject ; 
he  sees  and  feels  how  each  line  and  word  is  to  affect  himself  in  their 
good  opinion  ;  and  he  writes  accordingly,  evincing  a  restraint  of 
censure,  or  an  excess  of  eulogy.  He  has  his  and  his  subject's  neigh- 
borhood, also,  their  particular  latitude  or  longitude,  to  satisfy  ;  and 
he  is  almost  certain  to  be  carried  forward,  or  held  back,  by  these 
delicate  considerations.  The  cotemporary,  though  not  a  daily 
friend,  is  supposed  to  live  under  the  same  temporary  and  hence 
partial  influences,  to  have  his  hopes  or  his  fears  in  some  way  con- 
nected with  the  events  he  narrates,  and  thus  to  write  under  im- 
proper impulses.  So  fundamental,  indeed,  are  these  considerations, 
and  so  universal  is  their  application,  that  the  memoir  of  Agricola 
itself,  the  great  classic  model  of  one  species  of  biographical  history, 
while  it  is  a  piece  of  splendid  composition,  is  undoubtedly  a  very 
flattering  account  of  the  Roman  general's  actual  life  ;  and  were  it 
now  of  more  consequence  to  have  a  true  narrative  of  that  life,  than 
to  possess  one  of  the  finest  extant  specimens  of  Roman  literature, 
and  of  Roman  art,  the  world  would  demand  another  work. 

With  the  full  admission  of  the  truth  of  all  these  acknowledged 
principles,  and  of  their  just  application,  it  is  possible,  nevertheless 
for  a  cotemporary  to  write  at  least  an  impartial  biography.  The 
writer  may  never  have  been  a  companion,  or  a  friend,  or  in  any  way 
a  part  of  his  subject's  social  circle.  He  may  not  have  been  a  citizen 
of  his  locality.  In  both  these  respects,  he  may  have  been  as  distant, 
as  separate,  as  distinct  from  his  subject,  as  if  he  had  been  born  in 
another  hemisphere,  or  had  lived  in  another  century.  It  is  possi- 
ble, too,  that  he  may  have  been  so  distinct  from  all  the  associations, 
political  or  ecclesiastical,  in  which  that  subject  moved  and  acted,  at 


riii  PREFACE. 

to  be  tapable  of  looking  upon  them  with  as  much  disinterestness  ta 
will  be  felt  by  a  writer  of  a  coming  generation. 

Kor  would  this  position  of  the  author,  if  admitted  in  its  full  force; 
necessarily  exclude  him  from  those  sources  of  information,  in  rela- 
tion to  his  subject,  which  are  essential  to  his  undertaking.  He  has 
all  the  sources,  and  more  than  all,  that  will  be  open  to  that  future 
biographer,  who,  according  to  the  standard  canons  just  stated,  will 
alone  be  capable  of  writing  a  reliable  biography.  It  is  possible,  in- 
deed, perhaps  probable,  that  more  personal  incidents,  more  of  mi- 
nute details,  more  epistles,  more  table-talk,  more  particulars  of 
every  sort,  may  be  imparted  to  the  public  before  the  appearance 
of  that  coming  biographer ;  but  it  is  also  possible,  and  in  fact  quite 
true,  as  any  one  making  an  attempt  to  write  the  life  of  such  a  man 
as  Webster  would  quickly  find,  that  there  is  likely  to  be  already 
such  an  amount  of  personal  details  as  to  embarrass  rather  than  fa- 
cilitate a  writer's  hand.  It  cannot  be  improbable,  indeed,  that  Mr. 
Webster  may  have  left  many  unpublished  letters,  and  similar  docu- 
ments connected  with  his  career ;  but,  should  these  documents  be 
BO  ample  as  to  fill  many  volumes,  as  it  is  supposable  they  may,  they 
cannot  be  regarded  as  at  all  essential  to  the  exposition  of  a  life  so 
thoroughly  open  to  investigation,  and  so  accurately  prefigured,  in 
his  works. 

The  published  writings  of  Mr.  Webster,  indeed,  constitute,  as  they 
will  ever  constitute,  the  main  reliance  of  all  who  shall  undertake 
to  write  the  narrative  of  his  life.  Next  to  these,  the  history  of  his 
country,  during  the  period  when  he  lived,  will  be  the  second  moit 
complete  and  authentic  resource ;  for  such  was  his  position,  such 
the  magnitude  of  his  individual  acts,  that  there  is  scarcely  an  event 
in  his  history,  after  he  became  a  public  man,  and  scarcely  a  speech 
in  the  entire  collection  of  his  speeches,  which  is  not  directly  con- 
nected with  some  important  event,  and  generally  some  epoch,  in 
the  history  of  the  nation  of  which  he  formed  a  part  The  third  and 
last  soui  ie  of  information  is  found  in  what  his  friends  and  his  ene- 
mies have  written  in  relation  to  him;  and,  though  the  lowest  testi- 
mony respecting  him,  it  is  so  abundant,  that,  were  it  sufficiently  re- 
liable, his  life  might  be  written,  from  beginning  to  end,  without  go- 
ing beyond  it.  When  it  is  considered,  indeed,  that  his  published 
works,  wherein  his  whole  career  lies  embodied,  nearly  fill  six  heavy 
octavo  volumes;  that  the  history  of  his  time  is  spread  out  in  a 
thousand  different  forme;  that  everything  h«  ever  did,  or  «vei 


PREFACE.  11 

•aid,  possessea  of  any  consequence,  lias  been  successively  p/esented, 
recalled,  repeated,  discussed,  by  every  grade  of  intellect,  in  every 
possible  ehape,  and  with  every  conceivable  kind  and  degree  of  cen- 
sure and  of  praise,  ia  books,  in  periodicals,  and  in  newspapers ;  that 
his  name  and  character  have  been  through  life  constantly  before 
the  world,  daily  and  hourly,  from  one  end  of  our  country  to  the 
other,  and  in  other  countries,  as  subjects  of  investigation;  that,  fot 
forty  years,  there  was  not  a  day  when  that  name,  and  something 
in  relation  to  that  character,  were  not  to  be  found  in  any  political 
or  secular  sheet,  which  any  man  might  happen  to  take  up  at  home 
or  abroad,  in  any  city  of  the  Union,  in  any  town  or  village  or 
hamlet  of  the  country,  it  may  well  be  doubted  whether  anything 
that  Mr.  Webster  may  have  left  not  now  published,  or  anything 
he  could  have  written,  would  add  anything  now  or  hereafter  to 
the  wonderfully  and  almost  oppressively  ample  stock  of  informa- 
tion which  the  world  has  long  since  had  respecting  him.  All  that 
a  biographer  can  now  do,  in  fact,  in  tracing  out  the  actual  history 
of  his  life,  is  to  select  from  this  abundant  store  as  much  as  is  posi- 
tively essential  to  his  purpose,  and  the  best  material  for  that  pur- 
pose, making  no  farther  use  of  the  remainder  than,  by  reading  and 
appreciating  it,  to  prepare  himself  to  understand  and  properly  em- 
ploy what  is  to  enter  more  directly  into  his  composition. 

In  regard  to  the  second  volume  of  this  work,  it  is,  perhaps,  suf- 
ficient to  say,  that  it  has  been  my  intention  to  give  only  the  ac- 
knowledged master-piece  of  Mr.  "Webster  in  each  of  the  several 
fields  occupied  or  entered  by  his  almost  universal  genius.  As  the 
age  is  too  much  employed  to  dwell  upon  every  minor  incident  in 
even  a  great  man's  life,  so  it  is  too  busy  to  admit  of  paying  equal 
attention  to  everything  he  has  produced.  The  world  is  now  so  full 
of  reading,  and  the  tcpica  of  investigation  are  so  greatly  multiplied, 
that  the  best  rule  a  man  can  now  lay  down  for  the  government  of  his 
studies  is,  not  to  read  whatever  comes  to  hand,  nor  all  that  even  great 
men  have  written,  which  would  be  impossible,  but  chiefly  the  master 
efforts  of  the  master  minds  of  the  most  enlightened  and  illustrious 
countries  and  ages  of  the  world.  In  this  way,  whatever  be  the  as- 
sociations  he  is  compelled  to  hold  in  his  daily  life,  which,  in  gen- 
eral, have  to  be  rather  common-place  at  best,  he  may  maintain  a 
very  close  conversation,  not  only  with  the  first  spirits  of  every  pe- 
riod and  of  all  places,  but  with  these  in  their  happiest  moment*  and 
in  the  highest  inspiration  and  soaring  of  their  minds.  This  it  th« 


•use  that  the  rising  generation,  and  all  future  generations,  will 
wish  to  make  of  "Webster.  One  after  another,  his  secondary 
efforts  will  be  dropped  from  the  general  regard,  and  consigned  tc 
those  few,  lawyers  and  civilians,  who  will  study  'his  productions 
with  their  professional  ends  in  view,  while  his  most  able  and  bril- 
liant performances,  which,  like  the  books  of  the  Sybil,  will  main- 
tain the  nndiminished  value  of  his  works,  though  their  number  may 
be  less,  are  to  endure  the  wreck  .of  ages  and  the  touch  of  time. 

CLIFTON  SPRINOS.  Augwt,  1854. 


CONTENTS. 


MM 

CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCTORY    REMARKS,  IT 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE    WEBSTER    FAMILY. 

Fliet  settlement  of  the  Webster  Family  in  New  Hampshire,           .           •  M 

Their  Peculiarities,            .......  28 

Revolutionary  Services  of  Ebenezer  Webster,            ....  24 

The  Birth-place  of  Daniel,              ......  J6 

Character  of  Ebenezer  Webster,  drawn  by  his  Son,   .           .           .           .  2T 

Exekiel  Webster,    ........  38 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE    YOUTH    OF  WEBSTER. 

His  Feeble  Health  in  Infancy  and  Boyhood,                         .           .           .  8f 

The  Pocket-handkerchief— his  first  reading  of  the  Constitution,  .           .  81 
Story  of  the  Cock-fight,           .......83 

His  first  Instructors,          .......  88 

Letter  to  Master  Tappan,         .......84 

Maternal  Instruction,         .......  86 

Employed  in  Mr.  Thompson's  Office — Strange  Choice  of  Books,      .           .  89 

Is  sent  to  Phillips1  Academy,         ......  87 

His  Introduction  to  the  Principal,      ......  88 

Bapid  Progress  in  his  Studies,        .*....  40 

Cannot  Declaim,           ..*.....  41 

Influence  of  Dr.  Abbott,     .......  48 

Becomes  a  Pupil  of  Dr.  Wood,            ......  46 

It  is  decided  to  send  him  to  College,        .           .           .           .           .  47 

CHAPTER  IV. 

WEBSTER   IN    COLLEGE. 

His  First  Appearance  at  Dartmouth  College,             .           .           .           .  49 

General  Demeanor  as  a  Student,    ......  61 

His  Choice  of  Studies,  .           .......  52 

His  Description  of  True  Eloquence,         .....  57 

Quickness  at  Repartee,             .......  68 

Amusing  Anecdote,           .'......  69 

Determines  that  his  Brother  shall  go  to  CollegA,                     ...  61 

Hag  no  equal  «rocmf  the  Btndento  in  Phflos'opbj  »n<3  Rhetorte,  .           .  68 


01  CONTENTS. 

MM 

Hts  flrct  Public  Oration, C4 

Studies  during  his  last  year  in  CoDeg*,     .....  T8 

His  Classmate*  in  the  Graduating  Clan,         .....  62 

Commencement  Orations,             ......  88 

Receives  his  Degree,    .....            ...  86 

Destroys  hi»  Diploma,       .......  84 

CHAPTER  V. 

WEBSTER  THE   LAWYUi. 

Returns  Home  and  enters  the  Office  of  Mr.  Thompson,          .          . .           .  8T 

Takes  charge  of  the  Academy  at  Fryeburg,           ....  88 

Acts  as  Assistant  Registrar  of  Deeds  out  of  School-hours,      ...  90 

Travels  through  Maine  with  his  Brother,            ....  91 

Affectionate  Remembrance  of  the  People  of  Fryeburg,         ...  98 

Re-enters  the  Office  of  Mr.  Thompson,     .....  $8 

A  Hard  and  Judicious  Student,            .            .            .            .            .      °      .  94 

Completes  his  Law  Studies  with  Governor  Gore,  at  Boston,                    .  96 

Thrown  into  the  Society  of  Distinguished  Men  there,             ...  96 

Severe  Study  impairs  his  Health,  ......  99 

Visits  Albany— Attentions  shown  him  there,             ....  100 

Appointed  Clerk  of  his  Father's  Court,     .....  108 

Visits  Home,  and  declines  the  Overture,         .....  103 

Is  confirmed  in  this  Resolution  by  Governor  Gore,         ...  104 

Admitted  to  the  Bar — Governor  Gore's  Eulogy,        ....  106 

Flattering  Offers  to  remain  in  Boston,      .....  106 

Returns  Home  and  opens  an  Office  there,      .....  107 

First  Cause  in  Court,         .......  103 

Is  at  once  Successful,    ........  109 

Btill  a  Hard  Student — Love  of  Poetry,      .....  Ill 

Write*  for  the  Press,    ........  118 

Anniversary  Oration  at  Concord,              .....  114 

Removes  to  Portsmouth,         .......  115 

Marries  Miss  Grace  Fletcher, 116 

Joy  of  hi»  Domestic  Life,         ..."...  117 

Amusing  Professional  Anecdote,   ......  118 

Increasing  Popularity  as  a  Lawyer,    ......  119 

Rule  of  bis  Professional  Life,         ......  180 

CHAPTER  VL 

REPRESENTATIVE  TO   CONGRESS. 

Is  drawn  into  Politics,             .......  Ms 

Everts  preceding  the  War  with  England,            ....  144 

European  Politics,        ........  128 

State  of  Affairs  at  the  Commencement  of  Madison's  Administration,      .  127 
War  declared,  .......                        .128 

Webster  opposed  to  the  Policy  of  Use  Administration,     ...  129 

His  first  Political  Speech, ".......  180 

Elected  to  Congress,           .......  18J 


COITTEKTS.  xiii 

•  »AS«. 

An  Extra  Session— Journey  to  Washington,  .....  183 

Tikes  his  seat  in  Congress,             ......  184 

Appointed  on  the  Committee  of  Foreign  Relations,    ....  136 

His  Action  in  the  Committee,        ......  187 

Offers  Resolutions  of  Inquiry,             ......  140 

His  first  Speech  in  Congress,          ......  148 

His  Fellow-members  surprised  at  his  Eloquence,      .           .           .           .  149 

Opinion  of  Chief  Justice  Marshall,             .....  160 

Speaks  only  on  the  most  Important  Questions,          ....  151 

His  Opinion  of  the  War,     .......  162 

Advocates  an  Increase  of  the  Navy,    ......  158 

Is  Re-elected  to  Congress,              ......  154 

The  United  States  Bank,         .......  166 

Webster  opposes  the  Administration  Plan  of  a  Bank,     ...  156 

His  Objections  to  it,     ........  1ST 

His  Library  destroyed  by  Fire,     ......  161 

Increased  Preparation  for  his  Official  Duties,             .           .           .           .  188 

Opposes  a  High  Protective  Taring             .....  168 

Reasons  for  that  Opposition,    .......  165 

Again  Opposes  a  United  States  Bank,       .....  166 

His  Resolutions  on  the  Collection  of  the  Public  Revenues,    ...  168 

CHAPTER  VIL 

A    LAWYER   IN    MASSACHUSETTS. 

Resume*  the  Practice  of  his  Profession,    .....  171 

Removes  to  Boston,     ........  IT; 

Takes  the  Highest  Position  as  a  Counselor  and  Advocate  there,             .  178 

Case  of  the  Kennistons,           .......  174 

Mr.  "Webster  successfully  defends  them,   .....  173 

The  Dartmouth  College  Case,              ......  181 

Mr.  Webster's  Great  Speech  thereon,       .....  186 

Professor  Goodrich's  Account  of  it,    .           .           .           .           .           .  187 

Conclusion  of  the  Speech,              ......  190 

I;?  Effect  on  the  Court,  ......  .191 

Elected  a  Member  of  the  Massachusetts  Convention,        ...  192 

Speech  on  the  Property  Qualification,             .....  198 

His  Oration  at  Plymouth,  .......  195 

Defense  of  Judge  Prescott,     .  .  .  .  .  .  .197 

Murder  of  Joseph  White, 900 

Arrest  of  the  Brothers  Knapp,             ......  JOS 

Trial  of  John  Francis  Knapp,        ......  912 

Mr.  Webster's  Great  Argument  for  the  Prosecution,             ...  914 

Mr.  Choate's  Account  of  it,             ......  115 

Fame  as  a  Lawyer — Judgment  of  his  Cotemporaries,             ...  819 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

REPRESENTATIVE  AND  SENATOR  FROM  HASSACHrSETTft 

Ke-enterc  Congress,           .......  S21 

fpeech  en  the  Greek  Rp-'olnttom,         ....  .938 


Xiv  CONTENTS. 

PAOT. 

Kin  Estimate  of  the  Power  of  Public  Opinion,           .           ...  226 

Clay  and  Webster, 227 

Speech  on  tlie  Tariff,   .......  .228 

Case  of  Gibbons  and  Ogden,          ......  280 

Mr.  Webster's  Great  Constitutional  Argument,          ....  281 

Judge  Wayne's  Opinion  of  it,        ......  282 

Almost  unanimously  re-elected  to  the  Lower  House,             ...  288 

First  Bunker  Hill  Oration,                                                 .           .           .  284 

Election  of  J.  Q.  Adams,          .......  236 

Charge  against  Clay  and  Adams,    ......  287 

Mr.  Webster's  Courtesy  as  a  Debater,              .....  238 

Bill  to  remodel  the  Judiciary,       ......  289 

Speech  on  the  Panama  Mission,           ..*...  241 

Eulogy  on  Adams  and  Jefferson,  ......  246 

Transferred  to  the  Senate,        .......  24S 

First  Speech  in  the  Senate,            ......  249 

Election  of  General  Jackson,              ......  258 

The  Tariff  and  New  England,        ......  255 

Speech  on  the  Tariff  of  1828, 256 

Opposition  of  South  Carolina,        ......  258 

Foot's  Resolution  on  the  Public  Lands,          .....  259 

The "  Great  Debate,"         .......  260 

Mr.  Hayne,  as  an  Orator,          .            .            .            .            .            .           .  261 

Mr.  Hayne's  first  speech  on  Foot's  Resolution,      ....  262 

Mr.  Webster's  Reply,   ........  268 

Mr.  Hayne's  second  Speech,          ......  266 

Mr.  Webster's  Great  Reply,    .......  267 

Judge  Sprague's  Opinion,  .......  268 

Mr.  March's  description  of  the  Debate,  .  .  ,  .  .271 

The  Exordium,      ........  274 

Wonderful  effect  of  the  Speech,           •••••.  275 

Its  popularity,        ........  278 

Nullification — General  Jackson's  Proclamation,        ....  279 

Mr.  Webster's  Speech  on  the  Force  Bill,  .....  280 

CHAPTER  IX. 

SECOND   TERM    A8   SENATOR   FROM    MASSACHUSETTS. 

Mr.  Webster's  private  Life,    ......  283 

Death  of  his  Wife,             ......  288 

Marries  Miss  Caroline  LeRoy,             •            «           .           .           .  286 

Rejection  of  Mr.  Van  Buren,  as  Minister  to  England,       ...  286 

Speech  on  the  United  States  Bank,     .....  288 

Is  courted  by  General  Jackson,     .....  890 

Visit  to  the  West,         ......  291 

Speech  at  Pittsburgh,         •«....  293 

Not  a  Consolidationist,           •••...  296 

Mr.  Clay's  Compromise  Act,         «           .           •           •           ,  29fi 

General  Jackson's  tour  to  tho  East,    .....  297 

Itomoval  of  th«  Deposit*,              ......  39* 


CONTBNTS.  XV 

MM 

Debates  on  the  subject,           .......  800 

Speech  in  reply  to  the  President's  Protest,           ....  804 

Mr.  Webster  the  leader  of  the  Opposition  in  the  Senat^       ...  808 

Opening  of  Van  Buren's  Administration,              .            .            •           .  809 

The  Extra  Session,       ........  810 

The  Sub-Treasury  Scheme,            ......  811 

Mr.  Webster's  Speech  thereon,            ......  812 

The  Domestic  Slave-Trade, 815 

Second  Speech  on  the  Sub-Treasury,  ......  819 

Debate  with  Calhoun,        .......  89d 

Personal  Relations  with  Calhonn,       ......  837 

Visits  England. 826 

CHAPTER  X. 

FIRST   TEEM    AS    SECRETARY    OF   STATJt 
Election  of  General  Harrison,  ...... 

Difficulties  with  England,  ...... 

Commencement  of  Negotiations — Case  of  McLeod,  .... 

The  North-Eastern  Boundary,      ...... 

Former  Negotiations,  ........ 

Settlement  of  the  Boundary,      ....  .  . 

The  African  Slave-trade,  and  the  Right  of  Search,     .... 

Treaty  between  France  and  England,        ..... 

The  Quintuple  Treaty,  ....... 

Settlement  of  the  Question  by  the  Treaty  of  Washington,          .  . 

Extradition  of  Fugitives,        ....... 

Burning  of  the  Caroline,     ....... 

The  Doctrine  of  Impressment,  ...... 

Claim  set  np  by  England,  .  ...... 

Ratification  of  the  Treaty,       ....... 

Difficulties  of  the  Secretaryship,   ...... 

Attacks  upon  Mr.  Webster,      ....... 

Reply  to  those  Attacks,     ....... 

Attacks  upon  the  Treaty,        ....... 

Mr.  Webster's  Defense,      ....... 

CHAPTER  XI. 

AGAIN    SENATOR   FROM    MASSACHUSETTS. 

Two  years  in  Private  Life,       .......  874 

His  Pursuits  and  Recreations,      ......  875 

Warns  the  People  against  the  Annexation  ntTex**,  .  ...  876 

Election  of  Mr.  Polk,         .......  877 

Speech  on  Annexation,  .......  879 

War  with  Mexico,  ........  882 

The  Oregon  Boundary  Question,        ......  &S3 

Services  of  Mr.  Webster,    .......  865 

The  Tariff  of  1842,       ........  886 

Revival  01  the  Sub-Treasury,        ......  8o7 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

VUit  tn  the  Southern  States,    .......  888 

Speeches  on  the  War  with  Mexico,            .....  890 

The  Treaty  of  Peace  with  Mexico,     .            .....  891 

Mr.  Webster's  Opposition  to  its  Provisions,          .  .  .892 

Kcvival  of  the  Slavery  Question,        ......  897 

Mr.  Webster's  Position,        .                      898 

The  Wilmot  Proviso,  ........  400 

Nomination  of  General  Taylor,     ......  401 

Mr.  Webster's  opposition  to  Military  Presidents,        ....  402 

The  Admission  of  California,         .                      ....  408 

The  Union  threatened,             .......  405 

The  Compromise  Measures,           ......  406 

Mr.  Webster's  views  of  the  Basis  of  the  Union,                    .           .           .  40T 

Speech  of  the  7th  of  March,           ......  410 

It  is  not  well  received  at  the  North,  ......  415 

Is  accused  of  yielding  too  much  to  Slavery,         ....  416 

His  other  Speeches  overlooked,           ......  417 

CHAPTER  XII. 

CLOSING    PERIOD    OF   HIS    LIFE. 

Death  of  John  C.  Calhoun,           ......  422 

Death  of  General  Taylor,         .......  428 

Mr.  Webster's  Eulogy,       .......  424 

Last  Speech  in  the  Senate,      .......  426 

Appointed  Secretary  of  State  by  President  Fillmore,       ...  480 

Boundaries  of  Texas,    ........  433 

Reply  to  Hulsemann,        .......  434 

Address  on  laying  the  Corner  Stone  of  the  Capitol  Extension,          .            .  483 

The  Lopez  Expedition,      .......  439 

Successful  Exertions  of  Mr.  Webster  in  behalf  of  the  Prisoners,      .            .  440 

Case  of  Mr.  Thrasher,        .......  441 

Sudden  Announcement  of  Mr.  Webster's  last  Illness,            ...  448 

His  previous  Attacks,        .......  444 

Visits  Dr.  Jeffries — Description  of  his  appearance,     ....  446 

Is  directed  to  abstain  from  all  Mental  Labor,        ....  447 

His  Views  of  Life  and  Death,              ......  449 

Remarks  of  Mr.  Hillard,    .......  451 

General  Concern  of  the  Nation,           ......  462 

Inscription  for  his  Monument,  written  by  himself,         ...  453 

Increasing  Debility— Dictates  his  Will,          .....  455 

Alarming  Symptoms — Executes  his  Will,            ....  461 

Concluding  Scenes,      .            ...            .            .            .            .            .  462 

Wishes  to  Comprehend  Death,      ......  468 

His  last  Words— "I  still  Live!  "—and  Death,           ....  466 

Bevlew  of  lite  Life,                       ....  40C 


WEBSTER  AND  HIS  MASTER-PIECES, 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCTORY   REMARKS. 

WHEN,  after  the  24th  day  of  October,  1852,  it  was  an- 
nounced  from  Marshfield,  that  Daniel  Webster  was  no  more, 
as  soon  as  men  had  time  to  begin  to  realize  the  nation's  loss, 
his  own  words,  which  he  had  used  in  reference  to  the  deaths  of 
Adams  and  of  J  efferson,  seemed  to  spring  spontaneously  to  the 
lips  of  every  individual,  who  had  made  himself  familiar  with 
his  works :  "  A  superior  and  commanding  human  intellect,  a 
truly  great  man,  when  heaven  vouchsafes  so  rare  a  gift,  is  not 
a  temporary  flame,  burning  brightly  for  a  while,  and  then  giv- 
ing place  to  returning  darkness.  It  is  rather  a  spark  of  fervent 
heat,  as  well  as  radiant  light,  with  power  to  enkindle  the  com- 
mon mass  of  human  mind ;  so  that  when  it  glimmers  in  its 
own  decay,  and  finally  goes  out  in  death,  no  night  follows,  but 
it  leaves  the  world  all  light,  all  on  fire,  from  the  potent  contact 
of  its  own  spirit." 

This  language  was  immediately  applied  to  the  man  who  had 
first  uttered  it.  It  was  extensively  copied  into  the  public  prints. 
Every  American  felt,  that  nothing  short  of  the  strongest  ex- 
p'-easions  could  do  justice  to  the  universal  sentiment.  That 
sentiment  was  higher  than  it  has  ever  been,  in  this  country, 
since  the  death  of  Washington.  It  was  as  high,  probably  much 
nigher,  than  it  was  in  England  on  the  decease  of  We  lington. 


18  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

Napoleon,  when  he  died,  was  not  more  mourned  ly  his  friends 
in  France,  than  was  Webster  in  America.  Napoleon  was 
mourned  by  one  party,  the  strongest,  it  is  true,  but  blamed, 
hated,  though  too  great  to  be  despised,  by  every  other.  Web- 
ster was  so  universally  mourned,  by  the  whole  American  peo- 
ple, that  the  very  few  citizens,  who  had  the  folly  to  become 
exceptions,  could  scarcely  be  regarded  as  constituting  an  excep- 
tion. They  were  lost,  and  buried,  and  overwhelmed  amidst 
the  general  burst  of  feeling,  which  the  whole  nation  poured  out 
over  the  grave  of  its  fallen  statesman. 

There  have  been  but  few  men,  since  the  beginning  of  history, 
whose  characteristics  were  so  prominent,  whose  greatness  was 
so  emphatic,  that  they  left  but  one  opinion  of  their  merits. 
Aristides  was  starved  to  death  by  his  own  countrymen.  An- 
axagoras  was  driven  from  the  land  of  his  birth  by  those  who 
had  listened  to  his  lofty  teachings.  Themistocles  was  banished 
after  he  had  saved  the  liberties  of  his  native  country.  Milti- 
ades  was  forced  into  exile  after  he  had  covered  his  country  with 
the  brightest  rays  of  its  military  glory.  Phocion  and  Socra- 
tes, the  incorruptible  politician  and  the  almost  inspired  philoso- 
pher, were  compelled  to  drink  the  fatal  hemlock,  after  they  had 
furnished  their  fellow  citizens  with  the  brightest  examples  of 
patriotism  and  of  purity  of  character  ever  witnessed  by  them. 
None  of  these  men,  great  as  they  certainly  were,  were  great 
enough,  it  would  seem — not  to  escape  slander ;  for  this  is  com- 
mon to  all  mortals — but  to  rise  above  it,  to  beat  it  down,  to 
conquer  it,  and  to  impress  upon  the  world  a  true,  single,  unmis- 
takable image  of  their  characters. 

Such  was  not  the  fate  of  Daniel  Webster.  When  he  do- 
parted,  not  only  his  owr.  nation,  but  all  the  civilized  nations 
surrounding  it,  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  as  well  as  more 
distant  countries,  and  tne  islands  of  the  seas,  uttered  substan- 
tially one  voice,  gave  vent  to  one  emotion,  united  in  one  opin- 
ion. That  voice,  that  emotion,  that  opinion  was,  that  the  great 


THE  NATION'S  LOSS.  19 

ness  of  Webster  had  left  nothing  equal  to  it  among  the  living, 
and  could  not  be  expected  to  be  followed  by  any  greatness  su- 
perior to  it  in  many  a  generation. 

What  a  spectacle,  indeed,  this  vast  country  presented  to  the 
world  immediately  upon,  and  for  weeks  and  months  after,  the 
lamented  24th  of  October !  A  statesman  had  died ;  and  all  the 
statesmen  of  the  republic,  including  its  chief  magistrate,  and 
the  heads  of  departments,  and  both  houses  of  congress,  arid 
all  the  state  legislatures,  as  soon  as  they  assembled,  and  the 
most  distinguished  of  our  retired  patriots,  hastened  to  pay  their 
profoundest  respects  to  the  illustrious  dead,  and  freely  acknow- 
ledge him  to  have  been  superior  to  any  of  their  number.  An 
American  lawyer  had  died ;  and,  with  the  same  consent,  all  the 
courts  in  the  country,  then  in  session,  or  immediately  upon  their 
being  opened,  passed  resolutions  of  honor  to  his  memory  ;  and 
the  first  jurists  of  the  nation,  with  the  most  able  and  noted  ad- 
vocates, as  well  as  every  class  and  individual  connected  with 
our  tribunals,  seemed  to  be  in  haste  to  free  their  breasts  and 
tell  the  world,  that  they  had  lost  a  man  whose  equal  had  not 
been  known  among  them.  An  orator  and  writer  had  gone ; 
and  all  the  orators  of  the  land,  and  the  writers  of  greatest  tal- 
ent, and  highest  genius,  and  proudest  reputation,  appeared  tc 
have  a  burden  upon  their  hearts,  till  they  had  proclaimed  him, 
from  Maine  to  California,  the  sublimest  speaker  and  the  ablest 
writer  of  his  country.  A  patriot  had  departed,  whose  birth  had 
occurred  amidst  the  scenes  of  the  American  Revolution,  whose 
ancestors  had  fought  in  the  battles  of  that  mighty  period,  whose 
political  career  had  covered  nearly  two-thirds  of  the  history  of  the 
government,  and  whose  personal  services  had  been  all  devoted 
to  the  establishment  of  the  constitution  and  the  perpetuation  of 
our  liberties  ;  and,  upon  the  first  announcement  of  the  nation's 
loss,  the  most  patriotic  of  our  citizens,  in  every  state  and  terri- 
tory, from  ocean  to  ocean,  hastened  together  in  solemn  assem- 
blies to  declare  to  each  other,  and  to  all  countries,  that  they 
VOL.  i.  2 


20  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

mourned  the  departure  of  their  most  fearless,  unselfish,  and 
useful  fellow  citizen.  That  citizen  had  been,  through  life,  so 
much  from  his  family  abode,  and  so  constantly  employed  in 
public  business,  as  to  have  left  doubtful  his  relations  to  the 
Christian  church,  though  his  views  of  Christianity  itself  had  been 
frequently  expressed ;  but,  on  his  burial  day,  when  his  family 
and  friends,  when  his  immediate  neighbors  who  knew  him  best, 
with  the  devout  pastor  of  the  parish  at  their  head,  while  shed- 
ding their  tears  upon  his  grave,  told  how  he  had  loved  and  read 
the  bible,  how  he  had  reverenced  the  character  of  God,  how  he 
had  led  for  years  the  devotions  of  the  domestic  circle,  with 
what  patience  and  submission  he  had  borne  the  distresses  of  the 
sick  bed,  with  what  emphatic  terms  he  had  given  his  last  testi- 
mony to  the  truth  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  with  what  fervor 
and  earnestness  he  had  committed  his  spirit,  in  the  closing  hour, 
to  the  care  and  protection  of  his  Maker  and  Redeemer,  a  new 
phase  of  the  great  man's  character  came  to  light,  a  new  chord 
was  touched  in  the  general  heart.  The  pulpits  of  more  than 
fifty  denominations,  of  every  Christian  body  with  scarcely  an 
exception,  united  with  the  acclamations  of  a  whole  people,  in 
pronouncing  the  national  eulogy  upon  him,  who,  for  nearly  half 
a  century,  had  been  acknowledged  as  the  first  and  foremost  of 
the  nation. 

Such  a  vast  amount  of  panegyric,  so  general  and  universal 
an  expression  of  respect,  of  mourning,  and  of  eulogy,  would 
be  more  than  enough  to  establish  the  immortality  of  any  indi- 
vidual. There  is  now  no  other  American,  there  is  now  no  En- 
glishman, there  is  no  European,  who  could  not  afford  to  ex- 
change all  he  hopes,  and  all  he  is  likely  to  obtain,  of  posthu- 
mous fame,  for  what  has  been  said,  and  written,  and  published 
of  the  fallen  statesman,  since  the  day  of  his  decease.  Could 
all  the  well-earned  praise  that  has  been  heaped  upon  him,  for 
almost  half  a  century,  be  blotted  out  and  forgotten,  what  has 
oeen  said  within  a  few  months  would  be  an  equivalent  tor  al) 


SCIENCE    OF    A    GREAT    LIFE.  21 

the  praise  ever  bestowed  upon  any  two  of  our  presidents,  ex 
cepting  Washington,  or  upon  any  five  of  the  most  distinguished 
of  those  of  his  American  cotemporaries  that  survive  him  ;  and 
yet,  it  is  certainly  to  be  doubted  whether  all  that  has  been  ut- 
tered, privately  and  publicly,  in  congress,  in  the  courts,  from  the 
pulpits,  and  among  the  people,  has  added  anything  to  the  stock 
of  his  reputation. 

Under  such  circumstances,  it  is  idle  any  longer  to  pronounce 
eulogiums  upon  Daniel  Webster.  The  time  for  them  has 
passed.  Something  more  to  the  purpose,  more  valrable,  mere 
lastingly  useful,  must  now  take  their  place.  When  it  is  con 
sidered,  that  the  man,  who  rose  to  all  this  importance,  to  all 
this  fame,  to  this  world-wide  influence,  sprang  from  a  hurobl*, 
origin,  and  grew  up  to  what  he  was  without  the  aid  of  extraor 
dinary  advantages,  with  scarcely  one  advantage  which  he  did 
not  make  for  himself,  his  life  and  character  become  at  once  a 
most  interesting  and  instructive  study.  To  know  such  a  man 
thoroughly  is  like  knowing  a  great  science.  His  career,  in  fact, 
taken  in  all  its  bearings  and  relations,  in  its  beginning,  its  grad- 
ual development,  its  proud  triumphs,  its  glorious  termination, 
is  a  science.  It  is  the  chief  of  all  the  sciences.  It  is  the  sci- 
ence of  human  life.  It  is  the  science  of  life  as  exhibited  on  a 
large  scale,  in  a  most  interesting  period  of  history,  on  a  new 
theater  of  action,  influenced  by  a  new  order  of  civilization,  by 
new  laws,  new  associations,  and  novel  circumstances.  To  un- 
derstand this  science  well,  as  set  forth  in  the  great  example 
now  before  us,  is  to  understand  the  history  and  present  condi- 
tion of  our  country,  to  understand  the  important  questions  now 
involved  in  every  consideration  of  its  future,  to  understand  the 
relations  existing  between  this  country  and  other  countries,  and 
to  comprehend  the  age  in  which  the  great  man  lived,  as  in  his 
lite  the  age  was  itself  comprehended. 


.CHAPTER  H. 

THE  WEBSTER  FAMILY. 

DANI&I  WEBSTER,  the  youngest  son  of  Ebcnezer  and  Abi- 
gail Webster,  was  born  at  Salisbury,  New  Hampshire,  on  the 
18th  of  January,  1782,  the  last  year  of  the  Revolutionary 
War.  He  died  at  Marshfield,  in  the  state  of  Massachusetts, 
on  the  24th  of  October,  1852,  at  the  advanced  age  of  more 
than  seventy  years.  To  speak  exactly,  he  was  seventy  years, 
> Jne  months,  and  six  days  old,  the  day  he  died.  He  was  born 
in  obscurity,  on  the  north-eastern  frontier  of  the  United  States, 
on  the  verge  of  civilization  in  that  direction,  his  father  living  in 
the  last  occupied  house  next  to  the  Canadian  line.  He  died  as 
Secretary  of  State  of  the  United  States,  the  most  known,  the 
most  celebrated,  the  most  powerful  and  influential  citizen  of 
his  country. 

The  family  of  the  Websters,  which  had  settled  in  Kingston, 
llockingham  county,  New  Hampshire,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  seems  to  have  been  highly  respectable. 
Strength  of  mind,  and  decision  of  character,  appear  to  have 
been  the  most  notable  of  its  chai'acteristic  traits.  Another 
feature  was  its  desire  to  establish  and  perpetuate  itself.  With- 
out any  of  the  aristocracy  of  family,  as  exhibited  in  monarchical 
countries,  it  looked  well  to  its  own  existence,  and  wished  to 
hand  down,  from  one  generation  to  another,  a  reputation  that 
should  honor  the  past  and  give  promise  of  the  future.  As  a 
specimen  of  this  feeling,  it  is  a  curious  fact,  that  the  eldest 
brother  of  Daniel,  his  father,  grandfather  and  great-grand- 


FAMILY    TRAITS.  23 

father,  who  were  all  eldest  sons,  were  named  Ebenezer.  Not 
only  this  cherished  name,  but  the  history  of  the  whole  family, 
in  all  its  branches,  evinces,  also,  its  third  strongest  peculiarity, 
a  decided  inclination  to  religion.  Perhaps  no  family  in  the 
country,  not  excepting  any  of  New  England,  can  show  in  its 
records  a  larger  list  of  names,  in  proportion  to  the  whole  num- 
ber, taken  from  the  Scriptures. 

Another  marked  peculiarity  of  the  Webster  family  was  its 
love  of  knowledge.  They  were  strikingly  intellectual.  It  is 
related  of  Daniel  Webster's  father,  who  was  apprenticed  to  a 
trade  at  an  early  age,  that,  though  he  never  went  to  school  a 
day  in  his  life,  he  made  himself  a  good  reader  while  quite  a 
youth,  and  afterwards  became  a  man  noted  for  the  extent,  depth 
and  accuracy  of  his  information.  While  a  boy,  he  studied  late 
of  nights,  by  the  blaze  of  pitch-pine  knots,  when  his  master  and 
the  family  were  asleep.  Those  who  remember  him  in  mature 
age  say,  that  he  was  then  the  best  reader,  the  best  elocutionist, 
and  the  most  thoroughly  informed  man,  of  the  place  where  he 
lived.  The  books  he  read  most,  and  which  he  most  admired, 
were  the  plays  of  Shakspeare  and  the  bible  ;  and  his  taste,  in 
this  respect,  seems  to  have  followed  him  to  the  most  distin- 
guished of  his  children. 

Patriotism  was  another  mark  of  the  Webster  family.  All 
through  the  earliest  periods  of  the  history  of  New  England,  it 
furnished  soldiers,  but  more  commonly  officers,  to  the  compa- 
nies raised  for  the  defence  of  the  inhabitants.  In  1757,  the 
French  and  Indian  war  was  raging  with  uncommon  violence. 
The  enemy  seemed  to  be  advancing  regularly  and  successfully 
with  the  plan  of  destroying  the  American  colonies.  An  emer- 
gency at  length  arose.  A  new  enlistment  was  ordered  for  the 
protection  of  the  north-eastern  frontier  against  the  savages.  It 
was  at  this  time,  and  for  this  purpose,  that  that  celebrated  corps, 
known  in  history  as  Roger's  Rangers,  was  commissioned. 
All  its  members  were  to  be  picked  men,  selected  from  the  lead 


24  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

ing  families,  and  known  to  be  hardy,  able-bodied,  and  courage 
ous.  By  the  side  of  Stark,  and  Putnam,  and  several  others, 
who  afterwards  became  heroes  in  the  revolution,  the  father  of 
Daniel  Webster,  then  but  eighteen  years  of  age,  was  enrolled 
to  fight  the  battles  of  his  country.  Some  of  those  battles  are 
reputed  as  among  the  most  brilliant  ever  fought  even  on  the 
blood-stained  soil  of  New  England.  The  services  required  of 
this  band  of  men  were  exceedingly  difficult  and  dangerous. 
They  were  to  do  their  work  in  winter.  They  were  to  be 
doubly  armed,  to  be  prepared  for  all  the  rigors  of  the  season, 
to  carry  with  them  snow-shoes  that  they  might  be  able  to  march 
through  the  trackless  forests,  ascend  and  descend  the  snow-clad 
mountains,  and  pursue  the  enemy  without  regard  to  the  changes 
or  chances  of  the  weather.  They  were  also  to  carry  ekates,  to 
enable  them  to  cross  the  frozen  streams  and  lakes,  or  to  meet 
the  savage  foe  upon  the  ice.  Into  this  company,  for  this  busi- 
ness, and  with  these  horrors  in  the  prospect,  Ebenezer  Web- 
ster, the  eldest  son,  wiis  permitted  to  enlist.  The  love  of  coun- 
try was  stronger  than  the  love  of  family.  The  son  went  and 
performed  his  duty.  The  exploits  of  his  company,  when  told 
by  the  few  that  lived  to  see  their  own  firesides  again,  appeared 
like  fiction ;  and  from  that  day,  the  survivors  were  marked 
men,  the  heroes  of  their  neighborhoods,  set  down  in  public 
opinion  as  equal  to  any  demand  that  could  be  made  upon  them. 
A  demand  afterwards  arose.  At  the  age  of  thirty -six,  under 
the  command  of  Stark,  he  was  commissioned  as  a  captain,  and 
joined  the  army  of  the  revolution.  General  Burgoyne  had 
entered  the  territory  of  New  York.  He  had  taken  Ticon- 
deroga,  and  was  advancing,  by  rapid  marches,  across  the  state. 
His  object  seemed  to  be  to  penetrate  New  England  and  reach 
the  seaboard.  General  Stark  marched  out  to  meet  him.  On 
his  way,  he  fought  the  battle  of  Bennington,  in  which  Captain 
Webster  took  a  leading  part.  Subsequently,  at  the  battle  of 
White  Plains,  Webster  was  again  among  the  heroes  of  the 


HIGH    AND    LOW    BIRTH.  25 

day  ;  and,  at  a  still  later  period,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  wit- 
nessing, as  a  soldier,  the  surrender  of  the  British  general  on 
the  plains  of  Saratoga. 

In  other  countries,  to  be  descended  from  the  most  ancient 
family  is  accounted  the  greatest  honor.  In  this,  we  have  no 
prejudices  of  such  a  nature ;  but  if  we  had,  it  would  be 
honor  enough  for  any  young  man  to  be  the  son  of  a  revolu- 
tionary soldier.  This  honor  Daniel  Webster  had ;  and  this, 
except  that  patent  to  nobility  which  nature  stamped  upon  hia 
mind,  was  his  only  fortune.  His  father,  it  is  true,  before  the 
close  of  the  revolutionary  war,  had  purchased  a  large  tract  of 
land  north  of  Concord,  in  New  Hampshire ;  but  the  land  was 
wild,  the  growth  of  the  primeval  forest  still  standing  dense 
upon  it.  With  his  own  hands,  principally,  the  soldier  cleared 
a  few  acres  and  erected  a  log  cabin  for  his  family.  In  this 
humble  spot,  far  enough  from  the  refinements  of  life,  such  as 
they  were  in  this  country  at  that  period,  several  of  Daniel 
Webster's  brothers  and  sisters  were  born  ;  but,  upon  his  birth, 
his  father  had  so  improved  in  his  circumstances,  as  to  have  built 
a  small  framed  addition  to  the  original  structure.  In  this  new 
part,  Daniel  first  saw  the  light;  and  nearly  sixty  years  af- 
terwards, he  referred  to  the  event  in  a  characteristic  manner. 
In  a  speech  delivered  at  Saratoga,  in  the  month  of  August, 
1840,  he  was  advocating  the  election  of  General  Harrison,  who 
was  sneeringly  styled  the  "  log  cabin  candidate ; "  and  Mr. 
Webster  took  occasion,  in  a  very  beautiful  and  artful  manner, 
to  make  capital  out  of  the  epithet  for  his  client,  by  a  reference 
which  he  knew  would  cast  no  dishonor  upon  himself:  "  It  is 
only  shallow-minded  pretenders,"  said  the  orator,  "  who  either 
make  distinguished  origin  matter  of  personal  merit,  or  obscure 
origin  matter  of  personal  reproach.  Taunt  and  scoffing  at  the 
humble  condition  of  early  life,  affect  nobody  in  this  country  but 
ohose  who  are  foolish  enough  to  indulge  in  them  ;  and  they 
are  generally  sufficiently  punished  by  public  rebuke.  A  man. 


26  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

who  iir  not  ashamed  of  himself,  need  not  be  ashamed  of  his 
early  condition.  It  did  not  happen  to  me  to  be  born  in  a  log 
cabin,  but  my  elder  brothers  and  sisters  were  born  in  a  log 
cabin,  raised  amid  the  snow-drifts  of  New  Hampshire,  at  a 
period  so  early,  as  that  when  the  smoke  first  rose  from  its 
rude  chimney,  and  curled  over  the  frozen  hills,  there  was  no 
similar  evidence  of  a  white  man's  habitation  between  it  and  the 
settlements  on  the  rivers  of  Canada.  Its  remains  still  exist. 
I  make  to  it  an  annual  visit.  I  carry  my  children  to  it,  to  teach 
them  the  hardships  endured  by  the  generations  which  have 
gone  before  them.  I  love  to  dwell  on  the  tender  recollec- 
tions, the  kindred  ties,  the  early  affections,  and  the  touching 
narrations  and  incidents,  which  mingle  with  all  I  know  of  this 
primitive  family  abode.  I  weep  to  think  that  none  of  those 
who  inhabited  it  are  now  among  the  living;  and  if  ever  I  am 
ashamed  of  it,  or  if  I  ever  fail  in  affectionate  veneration  for  him 
who  raised  it  and  defended  it  against  savage  violence  and  de- 
struction, cherished  all  the  domestic  virtues  beneath  its  roof, 
and  through  the  fire  and  blood  of  a  seven  years'  revolutionary 
war  shrunk  from  no  danger,  no  toil,  no  sacrifice  to  serve  his 
country,  and  to  raise  his  children  to  a  condition  better  than  his 
own,  may  my  name,  and  the  name  of  my  posterity,  be  blotted 
forever  from  the  memory  of  mankind  !  " 

The  emphatic  part  of  this  quotation,  however,  is  the  reference 
made  to  the  father  of  the  speaker.  From  every  account,  and 
most  of  all,  from  every  allusion  made  to  him  by  his  distin- 
guished son,  it  is  certain  that  he  must  have  been  a  man  of  un- 
common mold.  His  success,  both  in  business  and  in  his  social 
standing,  was  decided.  He  became  independent,  if  not  wealthy  ; 
he  was  frequently  elected  to  represent  his  township  in  the  state 
legislature ;  and  in  advanced  life  he  was  appointed  a  judge  of 
the  court  of  common  pleas,  the  duties  of  which  he  is  said  to 
have  discharged,  to  the  close  of  his  career,  with  integrity  and 
honor. 


THE    OLD    HOMESTEAD.  27 

Such  was  the  life  of  Ebenezer  Webster.  His  character  has 
been  diawn  by  a  master's  hand:  "He  had  in  him,"  says  Dan- 
iel  Webster,  in  a  letter,  "  what  I  recollect  to  have  been  the 
character  of  some  of  the  old  Puritans.  He  was  deeply  reli- 
gious, but  not  sour — on  the  contrary,  good-humored,  facetious 
— showing  even  in  his  age,  with  a  contagious  laugh,  teeth  all 
white  as  alabaster — gentle,  soft,  playful — and  yet  having  a  heart 
in  him  that  he  seemed  to  have  borrowed  from  a  lion.  He 
would  frown — a  frown  it  was ;  but  cheerfulness,  good-humor 
and  smiles  composed  his  most  usual  aspect."  Did  ever  a  fa- 
ther receive  such  a  eulogy  from  such  a  son ! 

The  house  in  which  Daniel  Webster  was  born  does  not  no\r 
stand.  There  is  no  part  of  it  left,  excepting  the  cellar,  which 
is  a  ruin,  and,  if  preserved,  will  be  a  shrine.  It  lies  on  what  is 
called  the  North  Road,  on  the  side  of  a  hill  which  comes  down 
to  the  bank  of  the  Merrimack.  Near  this  cellar  stands  a  soli- 
tary tree,  an  apple-tree,  which,  though  dead  in  its  trunk,  has 
sprouted  from  the  roots  below.  It  should  be  allowed  to  revive 
and  mark  the  spot  to  be  held  in  reverence  by  a  whole  people 
as  long  as  it  can  be  certainly  defined. 

Still  farther  from  the  site  of  the  old  homestead  is  the  family 
well,  dug  by  Daniel  Webster's  father,  who  planted  near  it, 
about  the  year  1768,  a  young  elm,  which  has  now  grown  to  be 
so  large  as  to  cover  with  its  branches  a  circle  of  a  hundred  feet 
in  diameter.  It  is  to  this  well,  in  particular,  that  Mr.  Webster 
has  made  his  annual  pilgrimages  for  the  last  thirty  years.  It  is 
there,  under  the  shadow  of  that  broad  tree,  that  he  has  been 
accustomed  to  recline,  in  the  soft  weather  of  every  summer, 
and  think  of  his  father  and  mother,  of  his  brothers  and  sisters, 
of  all  the  scenes  of  the  family  in  that  early  day,  and  thus  reju- 
venate his  heart,  and  keep  it  tender  and  delicate,  in  spite  of  all 
the  influences  of  his  laborious  public  life.  That  well,  and  that 
tree,  should  be  guarded  safely,  that  they  may  remain  to  refresh 
the  pilgrims  who  are  yet  to  visit  the  birth-place  of  the  greatest 
TOL.  i.  B 


28  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

of  Americans,  from  every  part  of  our  own  country,  and  from 
other  lands. 

Of  the  brothers  and  sisters  of  the  great  statesman,  little  is 
now  known.  They  were  persons,  generally,  of  strong  minds, 
sound  sense,  and  sterling  worth.  As  a  family,  like  their  ances- 
tors, they  were  notable  for  their  religious  sentiment,  for  the 
moderation  of  their  views  and  feelings,  and  for  their  attachment 
to  private  life.  Ezekiel,  the  brother  next  older  than  Daniel, 
became  a  lawyer  of  almost  equal  eminence,  and  was  thought 
by  many  to  have  possessed  a  mind  of  equal  strength.  The 
mutual  affection  of  these  two  brothers  was  remarkable.  The 
younger  was  the  first  to  obtain  an  education  ;  but  he  could  not 
rest,  and  did  not  rest,  till  he  had  helped  the  elder  through  his 
course  of  study.  Ezekiel  died  at  the  age  of  forty-nine,  in  the 
act  of  making  a  plea  before  a  court  at  Concord ;  and  from  that 
day  till  the  hour  of  his  own  death,  Daniel  Webster  was  never 
known  to  mention  his  brother's  name,  or  hear  it  mentioned, 
without  shedding  tears,  or  showing  in  his  tremulous  lips  the 
of  his  emotions. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  YOUTH  OF  WEBSTF  .C. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER,  both  in  infancy,  and  in  his  early  boyhood, 
was  feeble  in  health  and  of  a  slender  constitution.  Being,  also, 
the  youngest  son  of  his  mother,  he  could  hardly  be  other  than 
the  mother's  pet ;  but  that  mother,  a  woman  of  most  extraor- 
dinary rniiid  and  character,  knew  how  to  foster  and  not  spoil 
the  child. 

As  her  darling  boy  could  not  bear  his  part  with  the  other 
children,  either  in  their  home  frolics,  or  in  their  attendance  upon 
the  distant  school,  she  kept  him  very  much  in  her  own  pres- 
ence, where  she  taught  him  the  alphabet  at  an  age  so  early,  that 
he  could  never  recollect  the  time  when  he  could  not  read.  She 
instructed  him,  also,  by  conversation.  She  would  ask  him  ques- 
tions, on  matters  of  some  consequence,  not  so  much  to  hear 
what  he  would  say,  as  that  he  might  le:mi  to  think.  She  would 
walk  with  him,  at  early  morning,  and  show  him  the  growing 
grass,  the  swelling  bud,  and  the  bursting  and  full-blown  flow- 
ers ;  she  would  take  him  again  at  nightfall,  as  the  stars  began 
to  shine,  and  point  them  out  to  him  as  they  successively  ap- 
peared ;  she  would  lead  him  to  the  fields,  and  along  the  banks 
of  the  river,  and  up  the  rugged  hills  of  the  neighborhood,  to 
give  him  a  growing  idea  of  the  greatness  of  the  external  world. 
During  all  these  rambles,  she  would  teach  him  things  as  they 
are,  rather  than  confine  him  to  the  mere  pictures  of  things,  rude 
and  imperfect,  as  they  appear  in  books.  It  is  a  remark  of 
Burke,  that,  "  in  an  inquiry,  it  is  almost  everything  to  be  once 


30  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

in  the  right  way ;  "  and  it  applies  to  the  education  of  children 
with  great  force.  The  mother  of  Daniel  Webster,  though  she 
had  never  heard  of  the  English  statesman,  seemed  to  know  the 
value  of  his  maxim ;  and  she  began  the  mental  development 
of  her  son,  as  if  she  had  been  a  philosopher,  rather  than  a  far- 
mer's wife.  To  such  mothers  America  has  been  indebted,  and 
will  be  indebted,  for  her  greatest  and  her  best. 

The  first  reading-book  of  Daniel  Webster,  which  was  given 
him  by  his  mother,  was  the  bible.  He  had  scarcely  learned 
the  names  of  the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  before  he  surprised  her 
by  reading  aloud  to  her  several  verses ;  and  from  that  hour,  she 
prophesied  his  future  eminence,  and  doubled  her  exertions  in 
giving  him  instructions  and  opening  his  mind.  Sitting  upon 
the  hearthstone,  or  following  her  in  her  movements  about  the 
house,  he  would  spend  hours  in  reading  those  beautiful  lessons 
for  children  so  numerous  in  the  sacred  volume.  He  was  par- 
ticularly delighted,  at  that  time,  with  the  books  of  Samuel  and 
of  Kings.  All  parts  of  the  Old  Testament  then  pleased  him 
better  than  any  of  the  New.  The  stories  of  Joseph,  of  Goliah, 
of  Samson,  of  David  and  Jonathan,  of  Solomon ;  the  wars  of 
Canaan,  of  the  later  Jews,  of  the  great  empires  of  the  early 
times;  and  all  those  episodes  of  universal  history,  so  entertain- 
ing in  themselves,  and  so  beautifully  told,  captivated  his  young 
mind.  In  a  very  short  time,  he  became  a  most  excellent  reader, 
his  voice  having  then  something  of  the  depth,  strength  and 
flexibility  of  after  years ;  and  it  is  related,  that,  when  his  father 
had  opened  his  dwelling  as  a  place  of  refreshment  to  travelers, 
custom  was  drawn  to  the  house  by  the  privilege  afforded  the 
guests  of  hearing  the  child  read. 

When  older,  Daniel  became  unwilling  to  exhibit  himself  in 
this  manner ;  but,  when  not  at  school,  he  used  to  take  the 
book,  which  he  happened  to  be  reading  at  the  time,  and  go  into 
the  forest,  or  down  the  river,  or  into  some  lonely  glen,  and  read 
for  many  hours  together.  There  was  a  sawmill  not  far  from 


THE    POCKET-HANDKERCHIEF.  ^1 

the  house,  which  belonged  to  his  father,  in  which  he  was  put  tc 
work  while  yet  a  mere  boy  ;  but  such  a  boy  wo;  Id  soon  learn 
to  do  any  task,  where  mere  skill  is  requisite,  which  could  be 
intrusted  to  a  man.  There,  after  he  had  set  the  log  and  started 
the  saw,  he  would  sit  and  pore  over  his  book,  never  forgetting 
however,  to  attend  to  every  demand  of  his  labor  at  the  proper 
time.  In  these  ways,  before  he  was  twelve  years  old,  he  had 
read  extensively  in  history,  in  travels,  and  in  the  English  clas- 
sics ;  and  such  was  the  grasp  of  his  mind,  and  the  tenacity  of 
his  memory,  that  he  understood  and  remembered  nearly  every 
thing  he  perused. 

About  this  time,  the  boy  chanced  to  be  sent  to  a  neighboring 
store.  lie  there  found  a  curiosity,  or  what  was  a  curiosity  tc 
him.  It  was  a  pocket-handkerchief,  covered  all  over  with  some- 
thing printed  in  good,  fair  type.  All  the  money  he  had  in  the 
world  was  a  quarter  of  a  dollar ;  and  that  was  exactly  the  price 
of  this  rare  specimen  of  a  book.  Of  course,  the  bookish  boy 
bought  the  curious  thing  and  took  it  home.  That  evening,  and 
till  very  late,  he  sat  by  the  large  fire-place,  in  the  presence  of 
his  father  and  mother,  perusing,  re-perusing,  studying,  commit- 
ting to  memory,  the  remarkable  production  thus  obtained. 
What  philosopher  will  reveal  the  impressions,  the  influences, 
the  results  of  that  memorable  night?  What  artist  will  picture 
the  event?  It  was  Daniel  Webster  reading,  for  the  first  time, 
a  copy  of  the  constitution  of  his  country ! 

At  this  period  of  his  life,  the  future  statesman  could  not  bear 
an  insult,  or  any  thing  like  a  personal  opposition,  any  better 
than  when,  in  after  years,  he  made  a  senate  and  a  party  trem- 
ble at  his  frown.  The  story  of  his  cock-fight  is  sufficient  proof. 
One  of  his  father's  neighbors  had  a  cock  noted  for  his  prowess. 
Among  the  feathery  tribes  he  was  the  acknowledged  monarch, 
and  used  to  roam,  with  impunity,  beyond  the  legitimate  limits 
of  his  kingdom.  More  than  once,  at  the  head  of  his  troop,  he 
appeared  on  the  territory  belonging  to  a  ravorite  fowl  owned 


32  WBBBTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

by  Daniel.  Hostile  encounters  frequently  occurred  between 
the  barn-yard  rivals,  in  which  Daniel's  pet  was  nearly  always 
worsted.  The  boy,  who  was  but  the  ungrown  man,  took  the 
defeats  of  his  champion  as  his  own ;  but  he  could  not  help  him- 
self, or  turn  the  victory  in  his  favor  with  a  beaten  combatant. 
He  was  greatly  chagrined  and  even  worried.  At  length,  when 
on  a  visit  to  a  distant  relative,  he  heard  of  a  cock  famed  all 
through  those  parts  for  his  fighting  propensities,  and  for  his  suc- 
cess in  battle.  Daniel  at  once  purchased  the  pugnacious  fowl, 
giving  for  it  half  a  dollar,  which  was  all  his  treasure.  With 
his  game-cock  under  his  arm,  though  he  had  expected  to  spend 
several  days  on  this  visit,  he  promptly  started  for  home.  He  had 
gone  but  a  short  distance,  when  he  passed  a  yard  well  stocked 
with  poultry,  among  which  he  saw  a  large  cock  strutting  defi- 
ance to  any  thing  that  might  venture  to  dispute  his  sway. 
Daniel  thought  it  a  good  opportunity  to  test  the  value  of  his 
purchase.  By  a  battle  or  two  he  could  judge,  with  his  own 
eyes,  whether  he  was  destined  to  meet  with  a  victory  at  home. 
So,  down  went  the  cock  from  his  arms,  and  the  fight  began.  But 
it  was  soon  over ;  and  the  reputation  of  the  new  champion  was 
triumphantly  maintained.  Several  similar  engagements  took 
place  on  the  journey,  for,  as  in  graver  contests,  one  victory  feeds 
the  martial  spirit,  and  each  triumph  is  the  seed  of  future  battles. 
Not  far  from  the  set  of  sun,  after  numerous  exploits  of  this 
nature,  in  which  the  result  had  been  constantly  on  the  same 
side,  the  boy  approached  the  yard  where  the  only  important 
engagement  was  to  be  fought,  and  the  question  of*  supremacy 
was  to  be  fairly  tried.  His  cool  judgment  dictated  the  propri- 
ety of  giving  his  champion  a  night's  rest;  but  he  could  not  sleep 
with  so  weighty  a  matter  on  his  mind.  He  could  not  endure 
suspense.  So,  down  went  the  war-worn  cock  again,  and  the 
sparring  at  once  began.  *  For  a  while,"  as  the  statesman  has 
told  the  story  to  his  friend,  "the  contest  was  an  even  one ;  but 
in  ten  minutes,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  his  hero  victo 


LETTER    TO    HIS    MASTER.  33 

He  saw  tne  cock,  against  which  he  had  the  grudge,  and 
which  had  again  and  again  driven  his  own  fowls  from  his  own 
yard,  led  about  by  the  comb,  in  a  manner  as  degrading  as  the 
old  Romans  led  their  conquered  foes,  while  celebrating  their 
triumphs  of  arms.  Wellington,  after  the  battle  of  Waterloo, 
was  not  better  satisfied  with  the  results  of  the  day,  than  he  was 
with  the  results  of  his  day."  Years  after  this  event,  the  states- 
man, Daniel  Webster,  took  to  himself  the  credit  of  having  a 
good  talent  for  sleeping.  That  night,  he  undoubtedly  slept 
well. 

Numerous  anecdotes  are  told  to  show,  that  Daniel  Webster, 
the  boy,  was  as  quick  and  as  pertinent  at  a  repartee,  as  ever  was 
Daniel  Webster,  the  man,  the  orator,  the  debater  of  his  times. 
On  a  certain  occasion,  Daniel  and  Ezekiel  had  retired  to  bed ; 
but,  having  been  engaged  in  a  literary  dispute  during  the  evening, 
they  continued  the  controversy  in  their  room.  Getting  into  a 
scuffle  about  a  passage  in  one  of  their  school  books,  they  set  their 
bed-clothes  on  fire.  In  the  morning,  they  were  severely  ques- 
tioned upon  the  matter.  Ezekiel,  a  very  bashful  boy,  took  the 
reproof  silently ;  but  Daniel  apologized  by  saying,  that  "  they 
had  only  been  in  pursuit  of  light,  of  which,  he  confessed,  they 
got  more  than  they  desired." 

The  first  instructors  that  Daniel  had  at  school  were  Thomas 
Chase  and  James  Tappan.  The  former  of  these  personages 
died  many  years  ago ;  but  the  latter  lived  till  after  the 
decease  of  his  most  distinguished  pupil.  What  influence  Mr. 
Tappan  had  in  opening  the  mind  of  his  little  pupil,  is  not  cer- 
tain ;  but  whatever  it  was,  or  whether  he  performed  any  great 
part  in  the  matter,  Mr.  Webster  never  forgot  him,  but  seemed 
to  remember  him  with  gratitude.  In  1851,  the  old  pedagogue 
addressed  a  letter  to  the  statesman,  reminding  him  of  their  for- 
mer connection.  The  statesman,  though  surrounded  by  the 
duties  of  his  office,  and  overloaded  with  the  cares  of  an  empire, 


31  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

promptly  returned  an  answer,  which  enclosed  a  bank-bill  for 
fifty  dollars: 

"MASTER  TAPPAN, 

u  I  thank  you  for  your  letter,  and  am  rejoiced  to  know  that 
you  are  among  the  living.  I  remember  you  perfectly  well  as 
a  teacher  of  my  infant  years.  I  suppose  my  mother  must  have 
taught  me  to  read  very  early,  as  I  have  never  been  able  to  rec- 
ollect the  time  when  I  could  not  read  the  Bible.  I  think  Mas- 
ter Chase  was  my  earliest  schoolmaster,  probably  when  I  was 
three  or  four  years  old.  Then  came  Master  Tappan.  You 
boarded  at  our  house,  and  sometimes,  I  think,  in  the  family  of 
Mr.  Benjamin  Sandborn,  our  neighbor,  the  lame  man.  Most 
of  those  whom  you  knew  in  'New  Salisbury' have  gone  to 
their  graves.  Mr.  John  Sandborn,  the  son  of  Benjamin,  is  yet 
living,  and  is  about  your  age.  Mr.  John  Colby,  who  married 
my  sister  Susannah,  is  also  living.  On  the  North  Road  is  Mr. 
Benjamin  Pettingil.  I  think  of  none  else  among  the  living 
whom  you  would  probably  remember.  You  have,  indeed, 
lived  a  chequered  life.  I  hope  you  have  been  able  to  bear 
prosperity  with  meekness,  and  adversity  with  patience.  These 
things  are  all  ordered  for  us  far  better  than  we  could  order 
them  for  ourselves.  We  may  pray  for  our  daily  bread ;  we 
may  pray  for  the  forgiveness  of  sins;  we  may  pray  to  be  kept 
from  temptation,  and  that  the  kingdom  of  God  may  come,  in 
us,  and  in  all  men,  and  his  will  everywhere  be  done.  Beyond 
this,  we  hardly  know  for  what  good  to  supplicate  the  divine 
mercy.  Our  heavenly  Father  knoweth  what  we  have  need  of, 
better  than  we  know  ourselves ;  and  we  are  sure  that  his  eye 
and  his  loving  kindness  are  upon  us  and  around  us  every  mo- 
ment I  thank  you  again,  my  good  old  schoolmaster,  for  your 
kind  letter,  which  has  awakened  many  sleeping  recollections; 
and,  with  all  good  wishes,  I  remain  your  friend  and  pupil, 

"  DANIEL  WEBSTER." 


VALUE    OF    LEARNING.  3i> 

During  all  the  years  of  Daniel's  boyhood,  his  mother  contin- 
ued her  efforts  to  instruct  him  so  far  as  she  was  able, 
and  undoubtedly  gave  him  his  first  impressions  respecting  the 
value  of  a  thorough  education.  The  first  impressions,  however, 
were  repeated  and  strengthened  by  the  father.  In  a  letter, 
written  particularly  to  throw  light  upon  this  part  of  his  history, 
the  statesman  has  stated  an  incident,  which  must  have  been  only 
a  sample  of  many  others :  "  Of  a  hot  day  in  July — it  must 
have  been  one  of  the  last  days  of  Washington's  administration 
— I  was  making  hay  with  my  father,  just  where  I  now  see  a 
remaining  elm  tree,  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon.  The 
Hon.  Abiel  Foster,  M.  C.,  who  lived  in  Canterbury,  six  miles 
off!  called  at  the  house,  and  came  into  the  field  to  see  my 
father.  He  was  a  worthy  man,  college  learned,  and  had  been 
a  minister,  but  was  not  a  person  of  any  considerable  natural 
powers.  My  father  was  his  friend  and  supporter.  He  talked 
awhile  in  the  field,  and  went  on  his  way.  When  he  was  gone, 
my  father  called  me  to  him,  and  we  sat  down  beneath  the  elm 
\>n  a  hay-cock.  He  said,  '  My  son,  that  is  a  worthy  man — he 
is  a  member  of  congress — he  goes  to  Philadelphia  and  gets  six 
dollars  a  day,  while  I  toil  here.  It  is  because  he  had  an  educa- 
cation,  which  I  never  had.  If  I  had  had  his  early  education,  I 
should  have  been  in  Philadelphia  in  his  place.  I  came  near  il 
as  it  was.  But  I  missed  it ;  and  now  I  must  work  here,  'My 
dear  father,'  said  L,  'you  shall  not  work.  Brother  and  I  will 
work  for  you,  and  wear  our  hands  out,  and  you  shall  rest' — 
and  I  remember  to  have  cried,  and  I  cry  now,  at  the  recollec- 
tion. '  My  child,'  said  he,  '  it  is  of  no  importance  to  me — I 
now  live  but  for  my  children;  I  could  not  give  your  elder  bro- 
ther the  advantages  of  knowledge,  but  1  can  do  something  for 
you.  Exert  yourself — improve  your  opportunities — learn — 
learn — and  when  I  am  gone  you  will  not  need  to  go  through 
the  hardships  which  I  have  undergone,  and  which  have  made 
oie  an  old  man  before  my  time.'  " 

VOL.  i.  B*  3 


36  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

It  seems,  in  fact,  from  many  circumstances  connected  with 
the  boyhood  of  Webster,  and  from  several  anecdotes  not  im- 
portant now  to  be  repeated,  that  his  father  and  mother  both  ap- 
preciated the  remarkable  talents  of  their  son  ;  but  the  first  reli- 
able evidence  of  his  genius,  or  that  which  must  have  been  the 
strongest  at  that  time,  was  given  to  Mr.  Thomas  W.  Thomp- 
son, a  young  lawyer,  who  had  only  a  little  before  set  up  an 
office  in  the  place.  Having  no  students,  and  yet  wishing  to 
keep  his  door  open,  whether  at  home  or  absent,  that  his  clients 
might  always  know  when  to  expect  him,  he  engaged  Daniel  to 
sit  in  the  office,  whenever  he  should  be  away,  to  give  to  stran- 
gers the  proper  information.  The  arrangement  was  entered 
into  by  the  consent  of  all  concerned.  He  was  to  sit  there,  not 
to  do  any  service ;  but  such  a  mind  as  that  of  Daniel  Web- 
ster, though  he  was  then  but  thirteen  years  of  age,  could 
not  stand  still  in  a  room  occupied,  more  or  less,  with  books  and 
papers.  Among  so  many  of  both  kinds,  however,  as  must 
have  been  found  on  the  premises  of  a  man  of  talents  and  am- 
bition, as  Mr.  Thompson  was,  there  would  be  something  of  a 
choice.  Besides  law  books,  there  were  probably  some  histories, 
some  books  of  poetry,  some  of  travels,  some  biographies,  some 
romances  and  other  works  of  fiction.  Any  one  of  these  would 
have  been  interesting  to  the  little  office  keeper ;  and  most  boys 
would  have  made  a  selection  from  them.  But  it  was  not  so 
with  Daniel.  His  choice  was  a  book  most  repulsive  to  lads  of 
his  age  generally;  but,  it  was  one,  which  a  better  judgment 
than  an  ordinary  boy's  would  consider  as  the  most  useful.  It 
was  a  Latin  grammar,  which  Mr.  Thompson  had  saved  as  a 
relic  from  his  own  days  of  classical  study.  This  volume,  a 
very  poor  companion,  probably,  by  the  side  of  the  grammars 
of  later  generations,  Daniel  committed  entirely  to  memory, 
and  repeated  it  alcud  to  his  new  friend  and  future  patron.  Mr. 
Thompson  was  surprised.  He  was  surprised,  not  only  at  the 
taste  of  the  youth,  but  at  the  tenacity  and  readiness  of  his  mem 


18  TO  BECOME  A  SCHOOL  TEACHER.          37 

ory.  He  was  surprised  to  see  a  boy  perform  such  a  feat  without 
any  apparent  object.  It  seemed  to  him  only  the  playful  frolic  of 
a  little  giant  without  employment.  He  concluded  at  once,  that 
such  a  mind  ought  to  have  employment ;  and  the  incident  was 
mentioned  to  the  father,  who  was  evidently  pleased,  but  did  not 
seem  to  be  struck  by  it  as  if  it  were  anything  not  to  be  ex- 
pected. The  truth  is,  he  knew  the  talents  of  his  son ;  but  he 
now  began  to  think  more  seriously,  under  the  advice  of  Mr, 
Thompson,  about  setting  him  free  immediately  from  manual 
labor,  that  he  might  commence  in  earnest  a  course  of  life  bet- 
ter fitted  to  his  capacities. 

It  is  the  advice  of  a  French  writer,  who  has  addressed  many 
valuable  maxims  to  the  young :  "Aim  high,  aim  at  the  highest 
mark  ;  for  it  is  as  easy  to  shoot  at  the  sun,  as  at  a  clod  of  earth; 
and  by  shooting  high,  you  will  not  be  so  likely  to  hit  the 
ground."  This  precept  has  roused  the  ambition  of  many 
youths;  but  it  was  too  elevated  for  the  ambition,  at  that  time, 
of  Daniel  Webster's  father.  After  a  deliberation  with  his  wife, 
to  which  Mr.  Thompson  was  invited,  it  was  settled,  that  Dan- 
iel should  be  released  from  the  labors  of  the  farm,  and  sent  to 
some  good  academy,  that  he  might  prepare  himself  for  the  use- 
ful and  honorable  profession  of  a  country  school  teacher ! 

The  choice  of  an  institution  could  not  be  a  matter  of  much 
debate,  as  Phillips'  Academy,  at  Exeter,  New  Hampshire,  was 
among  the  best  of  New  England,  and  not  very  distant.  Mr. 
Webster  has  often  told  the  story  of  his  journey  :  The  roads, 
at  that  time,  were  exceedingly  bad  even  in  New  England,  where 
they  are  now  so  smooth  and  agreeable.  There  were  few  car- 
riages in  the  country,  as  they  could  not  be  much  used.  It  was 
the  custom,  as  in  all  new  countries,  to  ride  on  horses,  not  only 
to  places  quite  near,  but  to  localities  the  most  remote.  It  was 
BO  on  this  occasion.  Mr.  Webster,  and  his  son,  went  to  Exe- 
ter on  horse-back ;  and  there  was  one  circumstance  in  the  story 
of  the  ride  to  which  the  son,  to  his  latest  days,  used  to  refei 


38  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

with  laughter  and  delight.  A  neighbor  was  desirous,  on  the 
very  day  of  the  departure,  of  sending  a  horse  and  side-saddle 
to  Exeter  for  the  convenience  of  a  lady,  who  wished  to  ride 
back  to  Salisbury.  The  order  of  travel,  therefore,  put  Mr. 
Webster,  senior,  on  the  back  of  one  of  his  own  horses,  and 
Mr.  Webster,  junior,  on  the  horse  with  the  lady's  saddle.  "  So," 
as  the  junior  Webster  used  afterwards  to  say,  with  great  mer 
riment,  "  my  first  appearance  in  the  world  was  that  of  a  boy 
of  fourteen  riding  behind  my  father  on  the  saddle  of  a  woman." 

On  the  third  day  of  their  journey,  they  reached  their  place 
of  destination  so  early  in  the  afternoon,  that  the  inhabitants  of 
the  village  saw,  what  they  afterwards  remembered,  the  first  en- 
trance of  Daniel  Webster  into  Exeter,  then  the  Athens  of 
Now  Hampshire. 

Daniel's  introduction  to  this  school  has  been  often  published. 
The  principal  of  the  institution  was  Benjamin  Abbott,  LL.  D., 
at  that  time  a  man  of  consequence  in  the  field  of  letters,  and 
since  the  patriarch  of  American  instructors.  Through  life,  he 
was  pompous  in  his  manners,  though  his  excessive  dignity  never 
seemed  to  rise  from  any  pride  of  disposition.  The  father  and 
son,  on  the  morning  after  their  arrival,  walked  up  to  the  Acad- 
emy ;  and  the  father  stated  to  the  Principal  the  object  of  his 
visit. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  he,  putting  on  his  cocked  hat,  "  let  the 
young  gentleman  be  presented  for  examination." 

The  lad,  holding  his  hat  in  his  hand — and  no  man  ever  held 
a  hat  more  elegantly  than  did  he  in  after  life — modestly  ap- 
proached the  magnificent  and  fearful  dignitary,  and  stood  before 
him.  Though  never  in  such  a  place  before,  it  was  certainly  a 
trait  of  his  in  mature  age,  and  probably  in  his  youth,  not  only 
to  be  entirely  self-possessed,  but  to  know  and  feel  at  the  instant, 
from  a  quick,  intuitive  perception,  what  is  fit  to  be  said  and 
done.  His  manner,  though  very  modest  and  becoming  a  per- 
son of  his  youthfulness,  in  spite  of  the  lofty  demeanor  of  the 


ENTERS    THE    ACADEMY.  39 

Preceptor,  seemed  to  say — "  Here  I  am,  sir,  what  will  you 
have  me  do  ?  " 

"  What  is  your  age  ?  " 

"  Fourteen." 

"Take  this  bible,  my  lad,  and  read  that  chapter."  It  was 
the  twenty-second  chapter  of  the  Gospel  according  to  St.  Luke. 
It  could  scarcely  have  been  a  more  difficult  chapter  for  a  faulty 
reader,  or  a  better  one  for  the  display  of  such  a  reader  as  was, 
even  at  that  time,  Daniel  Webster.  He  took  the  volume 
handed  him  and  began.  A  few  verses,  generally,  are  all  that 
are  required  on  such  occasions,  but  the  boy  had  not  gone  far, 
before  the  high-headed  listener  became  absorbed  in  the  manner 
of  the  reader,  and  lost  a  portion  of  his  own  self-possession. 
The  reading  was  new  to  him.  The  boy,  as  it  was  afterwards 
with  the  man,  seemed  to  banish  everything  from  his  thoughts 
but  the  business  then  in  hand.  He  threw  himself  wholly  into 
his  performance,  and  yet  without  overdoing  it.  His  voice  was 
exceedingly  sonorous  and  musical.  There  were  a  depth,  a 
richness,  a  flexibility  in  it,  which  could  not  fail  to  arrest  atten- 
tion ;  and  then  his  appreciation  of  what  he  read,  his  change  of 
style  to  suit  the  changes  of  his  topics,  his  correct  emphasis,  his 
beautiful  inflections,  in  fact  his  elocution,  for  he  was  then  an 
orator  without  knowing  it,  captivated  the  stiff  doctor,  and  lim- 
bered his  dignity  riot  a  little.  Daniel,  after  reading  the  chap- 
ter out,  shut  the  book  and  handed  it  to  his  Preceptor,  who, 
without  farther  examination,  was  satisfied. 

"  Young  man,"  said  he,  "  you  are  qualified  to  enter  this  insti- 
tution." 

It  is  doubtful  whether  there  was  another  person  in  Exeter, 
besides  the  new  pupil,  who  could  have  read  so  large  an  extract 
with  equal  force  and  elegance. 

It  has  been  unwisely  said,  by  those  who  wish  to  give  undue 
credit  to  the  natural  abilities  of  Mr.  Webster,  in  contradis- 
tinction to  the  powers  acquired  by  education,  that  he  had  no 


40  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

training  in  his  youth,  and  very  meager  academical  opportuni- 
ties. The  care  taken  of  his  mind  by  his  mother,  during  all  tne 
early  years  of  his  boyhood,  seconded  by  the  assent  and  enrour- 
ogement  of  his  father,  are  a  sufficient  denial  of  the  first  part  of 
this  statement ;  and,  as  to  his  academical  course,  though  brief, 
it  could  not  have  been  undertaken  at  an  institution  better  adapted 
to  his  peculiar  character,  or  more  likely  to  give  him  the  great- 
est development  in  the  shortest  time.  Phillips'  Academy, 
though  lower  than  a  college,  has  equalled  any  college  of  the 
country  in  the  rearing  of  great  men.  Within  its  halls,  such 
men  as  Lewis  Cass,  Levi  Woodbury,  Jared  Sparks,  George 
Bancroft,  John  G.  Palfrey,  Joseph  S.  Buckminster,  and  both  the 
Everetts,  obtained  the  first  rudiments  of  their  classical  educa- 
tion, and,  doubtless,  their  strongest  aspirations  to  a  thorough, 
earnest  and  great  life.  It  was  there,  too,  that  Daniel  Webster 
began  to  take  hold  of  intellectual  matters  with  a  giant's  grasp, 
and  prove  to  himself,  and  to  his  friends,  the  depth  and  breadth 
of  his  own  intellectual  might. 

During  the  nine  months  of  his  stay  at  Exeter,  he  accom 
plished  as  much  for  himself,  according  to  every  account,  as  most 
young  gentlemen  would  have  accomplished  in  two  years.  When 
he  left,  he  had  as  thoroughly  mastered  grammar,  arithmetic, 
geography  and  rhetoric,  as  the  majority  of  college  graduates 
usually  have  done  after  a  full  collegiate  course.  He  had  also 
made  rapid  progress  in  the  study  of  the  Latin  language.  Dr. 
Abbott,  appreciating  fully  the  capacity  of  his  most  remarkable 
pupil,  did  not  tie  him  down  to  the  ordinary  routine  of  study, 
nor  compel  him  to  lag  behind  with  the  other  pupils,  but  gave 
him  free  scope,  and  a  loose  rein,  that  he  might  do  his  utmost; 
and  the  venerable  Preceptor,  after  the  lapse  of  more  than  half 
a  century,  during  all  which  time  he  continued  to  be  a  teacher, 
declared  on  a  public  occasion,  that  Daniel  Webster's  equal,  in 
the  power  of  amassing  knowledge,  he  had  never  seen,  and  nevei 
expected  to  see  again.  It  is  not  enough  to  say  of  him,  accord 


COULD    NOT    DECLAIM.  41 

ing  to  Dr.  Abbott's  description  of  him  at  this  time,  that  he  had 
a  quick  perception  and  a  memory  of  great  tenacity  and  strength. 
He  did  not  seem  barely  to  read  and  remember,  as  other  people 
do.  He  appeared,  rather,  to  grasp  the  thoughts  and  facts  given 
by  his  author,  with  a  peculiar  force,  to  incorporate  them  into 
his  mental  being,  and  thus  make  them  a  part  of  himself.  It  is 
said  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  that,  after  reading  for  the  first  time 
the  geometry  of  Euclid,  and  on  being  asked  what  he  thought  of 
it,  modestly  observed,  that  he  knew  it  all  before.  He  under- 
stood geometry,  it  seems,  by  intuition,  or  by  a  perception  so 
rapid  as  to  appear  like  intuition ;  but  it  was  also  true  of  the 
great  astronomer,  that  he  had  great  difficulty  of  remembering 
even  his  own  calculations,  after  he  had  gone  through  them. 
Daniel  Webster,  on  the  other  hand,  though  endowed  with  a 
very  extraordinary  quickness  of  insight,  worked  harder  for  his 
knowledge  than  did  Newton  ;  but  when  once  he  had  gained  a 
point,  or  learned  a  fact,  it  remained  with  him,  a  part  of  his  own 
essence,  forever  afterwards.  His  mind  was  also  wonderfully 
fertile.  A  single  truth,  which,  with  most  boys  of  his  age, 
would  have  remained  a  single  truth,  in  him  became  at  once  a 
starting-point  for  a  remarkable  series  of  ideas,  original  and  stri- 
king, growing  up  out  of  the  seed  sown,  by  that  mighty  power 
of  reflection,  in  which  no  youth  of  his  years,  probably,  was  ever 
his  superior. 

It  is  singular,  however,  though  not  unaccountable,  that,  at  this 
period  of  his  life,  he  could  not  speak  in  public.  In  a  brief  me- 
moir of  his  first  tutor  at  Exeter,  Joseph  S.  Buckminster,  he 
makes  an  allusion  to  this  circumstance.  "  My  first  lessons  in 
Latin,"  says  he,  "  were  directed  by  Joseph  Stevens  Buckmin- 
ster, at  that  time  an  assistant  at  the  academy.  I  made  tolera- 
ble progress  in  all  the  branches  I  attended  under  his  instruc- 
tion ;  but  there  was  one  thing  I  could  not  do.  I  could  not 
make  a  declamation — I  could  not  speak  before  the  school.  The 
kind  and  excellent  Buckminster  especially  sought  to  persuade 


42  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

me  to  perform  the  exercise  of  declamation,  like  other  boys,  but 
I  could  not  do  it.  Many  a  piece  did  I  commit  to  memory,  und 
rehearse  in  my  own  room,  over  and  over  again ;  but  when 
the  day  came,  when  the  school  collected,  when  my  name  was 
called,  and  I  saw  all  eyes  turned  upon  my  seat,  I  could  not 
raise  myself  from  it.  Sometimes  the  masters  frowned,  some- 
times they  smiled.  Mr.  Buckminster  always  pressed  and  en- 
treated with  the  most  winning  kindness,  that  I  would  venture 
only  once;  but  I  could  not  command  sufficient  resolution  ;  and 
when  the  occasion  was  over,  I  went  home  and  wept  tears  of 
bitter  mortification." 

"  Here,  then,"  says  an  anonymous  biographer  of  Webster, 
"  is  a  striking  fact :  the  man,  who,  during  his  first  nine  months 
at  an  academy,  though  a  good  reader,  and  naturally  self-pos- 
sessed, could  not  deliver  a  speech  !  and  yet,  afterwards,  he  be- 
came the  greatest  orator  of  his  time!  Bashful  boys,  take 
courage ! " 

This,  undoubtedly,  is  a  very  good  practical  moral,  which 
those  concerned  may  well  heed  ;  but  the  philosopher  will  look 
into  the  causes  of  this  anomalous  timidity,  and  give  some  ac- 
count of  it  to  himself.  A  man  will  do  with  indifference  that  in 
which  he  is  conscious  he  is  not  destined  to  excel ;  but  bring 
him  to  the  matter,  whatever  it  may  be,  which,  his  heart  and 
soul  tell  him,  and  every  fibre  of  his  being  constantly  assures 
him,  is  the  thing  for  which  he  was  made,  which  is  to  form  the 
glory  of  his  life,  the  burden  of  his  fame,  and  the  man  shrinks 
from  it,  dreads  to  undertake  it,  pauses,  trembles,  fears,  and  per- 
haps flies  from  it.  It  is  the  momentous  feeling  of  responsibility, 
of  responsibility  to  himself  and  to  his  calling,  and  that  keen 
and  nervous  sensibility  that  always  comes  with  genius,  which 
make  him  modest,  and  sometimes  timid,  in  what  he  has  the 
greatest  promise  of  success.  More  than  one  man  of  parts,  who 
has  resolved  on  some  great  work  of  art,  some  master-piece,  to 
which  he  would  commit  his  reputation,  has  spent  the  whole  of 


INFLUENCE    OF    DR.    ABBOTT.  43 

his  life  in  the  execution  of  minor  works,  to  which  he  attributed 
no  value,  only  as  they  were  studies  preparing  him  for  the  grand 
design,  and  thus  lived  and  died  without  ever  touching  the  work 
which  was  to  have  immortalized  his  name. 

After  remaining  in  the  school  at  Exeter  about  nine  months, 
young  Webster  left,  never  to  return  to  it ;  but  the  impressions 
made  there  upon  his  mind  he  never  lost.  He  never  lost  any- 
thing, in  fact,  which  he  had  once  fairly  possessed.  Among  the 
recollections  of  the  academy,  which  he  often  mentioned,  and 
which  he  carried  with  him  to  his  grave,  his  early  and  continued 
veneration  for  his  Preceptor  took,  perhaps,  the  most  conspicu- 
ous place.  Dr.  Abbott  was  a  wonderful  man  ;  he  was  univer- 
sally respected  by  his  pupils ;  and  it  has  been  thought  by  some, 
that  he  not  only  was  the  first  to  rouse  the  ambition  of  Daniel 
Webster  to  its  utmost  pitch,  but  imparted  to  him  a  portion  of 
his  own  dignity  of  manner.  He  continued  at  the  institution  at 
Exeter  till  1839  ;  and,  on  his  retirement,  at  the  age  of  seventy- 
seven,  his  scholars  made  it  the  occasion  of  a  grand  rally,  from 
all  parts  of  the  Union,  to  the  shades  of  the  old  academy.  It 
must  have  been  a  scene  of  surpassing  interest.  The  notices 
given  of  it  in  the  public  prints,  though  brief,  and  even  ineager, 
will  help  an  imaginative  mind  to  get  an  idea  of  the  reality,  and 
to  look  back,  with  an  appreciating  eye,  on  the  influences  so 
early  at  work  on  the  destiny  of  Daniel  Webster.  "  Having 
attained  the  age  of  seventy-seven  years,  and  having  filled  the 
measure  of  his  long  and  faithful  services,  Dr.  Abbott  an- 
nounced his  determination  to  resign  his  office  at  the  conclusion 
of  the  summer  term.  This  was  to  a  large  number  of  his  pu- 
pils, to  all  whose  health  or  business  would  permit  their  attend- 
ance, a  signal  for  a  spontaneous  rally  once  more  around  their 
venerable  teacher  and  friend,  to  offer  him  a  heart-felt  tribute  of 
gratitude  and  respect.  His  portrait,  painted  by  Harding  for 
the  occasion,  will  faithfully  transmit  the  lineaments  of  his  coun- 
tenance to  aft-T  days.  The  dining  hall,  selected  for  the  festival, 


44  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

was  filled  by  a  long  procession  of  Dr.  Abbott's  former  pupil* 
from  all  parts  of  the  country,  once  more  gladdened  by  the  fa- 
miliar salutation,  and  grown  young  again  in  the  presence  of  their 
ancient  instructor ;  renewing  the  friendships  which  time  had 
interrupted  ;  revisiting  the  homes  of  the  hospitable  inhabitants 
which  had  sheltered  their  early  days ;  tracing  once  more  the 
scenes  of  their  boyish  sports,  and  sadly  bidding  farewell  to 
friends,  whom  most  of  them  were  to  see  no  more.  Political 
and  all  other  divisions  were,  for  the  time,  forgotten,  as  they  lis- 
tened to  the  eloquent  and  appropriate  addresses  of  Daniel 
Webster,  Edward  Everett,  and  the  other  speakers,  whom  the 
occasion  inspired.  All  eyes  were  directed  to  the  man  of  the 
day.  Dr.  Abbott  had  prepared  an  address  to  the  assembly. 
They  clustered  about  him  in  breathless  expectation.  He  arose 
to  tender  his  acknowledgments  and  a  parting  benediction.  The 
scenes  and  events  of  so  many  years  came  crowding  upon  his 
mind.  His  '  boys,'  of  days  long  gone  by,  were  gathered  in  his 
presence  with  every  demonstration  of  the  warmest  attachment 
His  eye  fell  upon  those  whom  he  had  instructed,  counseled, 
guided,  and  for  whom  his  prayers  had  so  often  ascended  to  the 
throne  of  mercy.  Some  had  fallen  asleep..  Perhaps  at  that 
moment  of  intense  emotion,  the  image  of  his  lamented  son, 
taken  from  him  in  early  life,  might  have  passed  before  his 
mind,  as  it  glanced  from  the  present  to  the  past.  Overcome 
by  the  conflict  of  his  emotion,  he  faltered  and  paused.  His 
utterance  was  choked ;  his  eyes  were  filled  with  tears ;  and  he 
sank  into  his  seat,  wholly  unable  to  proceed,  amid  the  sympa- 
thy, the  enthusiasm,  and  the  overwhelming  applause  of  the 
whole  concourse," 

The  relative  standing  of  Daniel  Webster,  as  a  scholar,  while 
attending  school  at  Exeter,  will  be  sufficient  to  dissipate  the  idle 
stories  set  afloat  by  those  who  wish  to  give  all  the  credit  of 
his  greatness  to  nature,  and  to  depreciate  the  value  of  a  thorough 
discipline,  of  a  careful  education.  It  was  the  practice,  it  would 


FIRST    SCHOLAR    OF    THE    SCHOOL.  45 

seem,  at  Exeter  academy,  to  place  all  new  pupils  at  the  foot  of 
the  lowest  class,  leaving  each  to  demonstrate  his  fitness  for  a 
higher  position.  This  regulation  was  always  trying,  and  some- 
times disheartening.  It  was  so  in  the  case  of  Daniel.  He 
began  at  the  bottom  of  the  school ;  and,  a  poor  country  boy  as 
he  was,  with  a  head  too  big  for  his  slender  body,  and  with  eyes 
too  large  for  his  head,  he  may  have  made  a  laughable  appear 
ance  by  the  side  of  the  boys  from  Boston,  and  other  large 
towns,  who  came  there  well  dressed,  and  with  heads  and  eyes, 
probably,  of  no  very  remarkable  expression.  At  all  events, 
the  city  boys  laughed  at  the  country  boy  ;  and  the  country 
boy,  with  a  soul  as  keen  as  the  apple  of  an  eye,  was  chagrined, 
discouraged,  and  almost  despairing.  All  this,  too,  when  en- 
tirely unknown  to  himself,  he  was  winning  golden  opinions  from, 
his  teachers,  and  surprising  them  hourly  by  his  masterly  exhi- 
bitions of  mental  power.  After  school,  weary  of  his  thoughts 
and  sadly  crest-fallen,  he  would  go  to  his  lodgings,  to  weep  and 
study,  to  study  and  weep,  in  secret.  His  tutors  encouraged 
him ;  but  that  availed  him  little,  while  the  well-dressed  boys 
laughed.  His  time,  however,  at  length  came.  One  morning, 
when  he  had  been  in  school  about  a  month,  Mr.  Nicholas  Em- 
ery, who  was  then  an  instructor  at  Exeter,  marshaled  the  boys 
of  his  department  before  him  for  a  general  recitation.  It  was 
then  that  the  laughed-at  boy,  and  the  laughing  boys,  could  meet 
face  to  face,  and  try  the  questions  of  laughing  and  of  being 
laughed  at,  before  a  competent  tribunal.  When  the  recitation 
was  over,  and  each  one  had  done  his  best,  the  master  gave  his 
decision  in  the  following  language :  "  Webster,  you  will  pass 
into  the  other  room,  and  join  a  higher  class.  Boys,  you  will 
take  your  final  leave  of  Webster,  for  you  will  never  see  him 
again ! " 

The  next  winter,  after  leaving  Exeter,  he  devoted  to  study 
at  home,  and  to  teaching  a  class  of  young  people  of  about  his 
own  age.  His  school  assembled  in  the  house  of  his  uncle  Wil 


46  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

liam  Webster,  where  he  gave  them  all  the  instruction  the)  re 
quired,  without  materially  retarding  the  pro  ress  of  his  own  in 
tellectual  pursuits.  The  act  of  teaching,  in  fact,  was  doubtless 
of  great  benefit  to  him  at  that  time.  It  gave  him  a  fine  op- 
portunity for  reviewing  his  former  studies ;  and  it  impressed 
upon  his  mind,  more  deeply  than  ever,  the  first  rudiments  of 
an  English  education,  in  which  even  our  public  men,  and  the 
greatest  of  them,  are  frequently  deficient. 

At  the  village  of  Boscawen,  a  place  not  far  from  Salisbury, 
lived  the  Rev.  Samuel  Wood,  LL.  D.,  a  man  of  great  learn- 
ing,  a  patron  of  the  young  and  aspiring,  and  an  ardent  friend 
of  a  liberal  education.  He  graduated  at  Dartmouth,  in  1779, 
with  the  highest  honors  of  his  class.  His  time,  and  talents,  and 
means,  were  all  devoted  to  the  spread  of  piety  and  knowledge 
among  the  people  of  his  charge.  In  the  course  of  a  long  life, 
he  is  said  to  have  helped,  in  one  way  or  in  another,  more  than 
one  hundred  and  fifty  pupils.  Of  these,  more  than  a  hundred 
entered  college,  nearly  fifty  became  ministers  of  the  gospel, 
about  twenty  became  lawyers,  some  of  whom  were  very  emi- 
nent, and  eight  or  ten  became  physicians.  It  is  related,  that,  in 
his  advanced  years,  he  could  count,  among  his  older  pupils,  sev- 
eral governors,  a  number  of  councilors  of  state,  some  distin- 
guished judges,  and  some  members  of  congress.  As  an  en- 
courager  of  youth,  as  a  mind  to  make  his  mark  upon  other 
minds,  he  was  probably  quite  superior  to  Dr.  Abbott.  In  his 
zeal  for  the  cause  of  learning,  he  actually  went  about  searching 
for  the  objects  of  his  charity,  and  for  those  whose  native  abili- 
ties gave  promise  of  distinguished  usefulness.  Such  a  man 
could  not  fail  to  fall  in  with  such  a  youth  as  Daniel  Webster. 
The  two  met  in  Salisbury,  and  the  result  of  the  meeting  could 
not  be  doubtful.  Daniel  soon  after  became  a  pupil  of  Dr. 
Wood,  with  whom  he  stayed  several  months,  and  who  fully 
appreciated  the  remarkable  capacities  of  his  new  acquaintance. 
Th°  teacher  had  soon  done  what  was  necessary  to  fit  the  scholar 


IS    TO    GO    TO    COLLEGE.  47 

for  the  university ;  but  the  idea  of  entering  college,  or  of  ever 
seeing  more  than  the  outside  of  one,  had  nevei  dawned  upon 
the  highest  summit  of  his  ambition. 

Dr.  Wood,  who  was  a  prudent  man,  did  not  venture  to  men 
tion  the  matter  of  a  college  education  to  Daniel,  until  he  had 
made  due  preparation  for  the  announcement.  He  wrote  to  Dr. 
Abbott.  Dr.  Abbott  replied  to  Dr.  Wood.  Dr.  WTood,  with 
the  letter  of  Dr.  Abbott,  and  with  his  own  warm  heart  and  judi- 
cious head,  went  to  Colonel  Webster,  the  father  of  the  youth, 
and  laid  his  plan  before  him.  It  seemed  to  the  father  too  great 
an  undertaking.  He  was  then  poor,  comparatively,  at  least  not 
rich,  when  the  size  of  his  family  is  taken  into  consideration. 
He  thought,  too,  that  the  act  of  sending  one  of  his  boys  to  col- 
lege, while  the  others  had  had  only  the  first  rudiments  of  an 
education,  would  be  an  act  of  partiality.  These,  and  all  similar 
scruples,  were  finally  overcome  by  the  eloquence  and  zeal  which 
accompanied  the  application.  The  question  was  at  last  decided. 
It  was  decided  in  the  affirmative.  Dr.  Abbott  and  Dr.  Wood 
were  to  open  the  door  of  Dartmouth;  and  Daniel  Webster  was 
to  go  to  college. 

The  decision  was  made ;  but  it  was  not  reported  to  the  one 
most  interested.  For  several  days,  Daniel  knew  nothing  of  it. 
He  was  still  studying  his  books,  and  pursuing  his  usual  avoca- 
tions, as  if  he  was  about  finishing  his  literary  course,  pre- 
paratory to  his  becoming  a  country  schoolmaster.  Colonel 
Webster  seemed  to  be  even  coy  about  stating  to  Daniel  the 
important  result  of  his  deliberations.  The  truth  is,  the  father 
and  the  son  were  both  exceedingly  delicate  in  their  sensibili- 
ities ;  both  would  probably  be  moved  by  such  a  revelation ; 
and  a  matter  of  this  magnitude  could  not  be  mentioned  by  the 
one,  or  listened  to  by  the  other,  excepting  at  a  proper  time,  and 
under  fitting  circumstances.  The  time  at  length  came.  One 
day,  as  they  were  driving  alone  to  Boscawen  in  a  rude  sleigh 
when  the  horses  had  slackened  their  speed  in  the  ascent  of  a 


48  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

long  hill,  the  secret  was  told :  "  I  remember,"  says  Daniel 
Webster,  in  his  own  account  of  the  conversation,  "the  very  hill 
which  we  were  ascending,  through  deep  snows,  in  a  New  Eng- 
land sleigh,  when  my  father  made  known  this  purpose  to  me. 
I  could  not  speak.  How  could  he,  1  thought,  with  so  large  a 
family  and  in  such  narrow  circumstances,  think  of  incurring  so 
great  an  expense  for  me.  A  warm  glow  ran  all  over  me ;  and 
I  laid  my  head  on  my  father's  shoulder  and  wept."  W  hat  art- 
ist will  give  the.  world  a  picture  of  this  scene ! 


CHAPTER  IV. 

WEBSTER  IN  COLLEGE. 

THB  first  ajpearance  of  Daniel  Webster  at  Dartmouth  haa 
been  given  to  the  public  by  his  class-mate,  subsequently  a  mem 
ber  of  the  Faculty  of  that  college,  Professor  Shurtliff:  "  When  1 
came  to  enter  this  Institution,  in  1797, 1  put  up,  with  others 
from  the  same  academy,  at  what  is  now  called  the  Olcott  House, 
which  was  then  a  tavern.  We  were  conducted  to  a  chamber, 
where  we  might  brush  our  clothes  and  make  ready  for  exami- 
nation. A  young  man,  a  stranger  to  us  all,  was  soon  ushered 
into  the  room.  Similarity  of  object  rendered  the  ordinary 
forms  of  introduction  needless.  We  learned  that  his  name  was 
Webster,  also  where  he  had  studied,  and  how  much  Latin  and 
Greek  he  had  read,  which,  I  think,  was  just  to  the  limit  pre- 
scribed by  law  at  that  period,  and  which  was  very  much  below 
the  present  requisition." 

Webster  had  come  from  home  through  a  violent  rain.  He 
wore  a  suit  of  blue,  dyed  at  home,  as  well  as  woven  and  made 
up  at  home.  It  need  not  be  doubted,  that  the  color  of  the 
cloth  may  not  have  been  very  fast,  for  the  art  of  dyeing  was 
not  likely  to  be  thoroughly  understood,  or  well  practiced,  in  the 
backwoods  of  New  Hampshire  at  that  time.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  when  Daniel  arrived  at  his  hotel,  according  to  his  own  ac- 
count, he  made  no  figure  calculated  to  help  him  in  the  presence 
of  his  examiners.  The  rain  had  completely  soaked  his  gar- 
ments ;  the  indigo,  which  had  taken  only  the  slight  hold  men- 
tioned on  the  texture  of  the  cloth,  had  run  down  upon  his  limbs 


M)  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

arid  arms;  and,  in  wiping  the  water  from  his  face,  he  had  spread 
the  color  over  his  eyes  and  around  his  mouth  and  chin.  The 
professors  were  waiting  for  him  on  his  arrival.  He  had  no 
time  to  make  due  preparation.  Soaked  with  rain,  his  garments 
stiff  and  smoking,  and  his  face  spotted  and  smeared  with  indigo, 
he  hastened  to  meet  the  Faculty,  on  their  summons,  to  pass  the 
great  ordeal  of  his  life.  He  has  often  laughed  at  the  figure  he 
cut  that  day,  when,  as  he  used  to  express  it,  "  he  was  not  only 
black  Dan  but  blue  Dan."  He  is  reported,  nevertheless,  to 
have  passed  a  good  examination.  According  to  his  usual  man- 
ner, and  in  spite  of  the  disadvantages  of  his  appearance,  he  was 
entirely  self-possessed.  What  he  lacked  in  classical  lore,  he 
more  than  made  up  by  the  ease  and  dignity  with  which  he  re- 
lated to  his  judges  the  early  beginning  of  his  education,  how 
many  books  of  the  course  he  had  read,  what  authors  outside  of 
it  he  had  perused,  and  all  the  matters  concurrent  to  the  case  in 
hand,  which  he  narrated  with  as  much  eloquence,  probably, 
simple  and  direct,  as  any  of  them  had  ever  heard.  His  case 
was  easily  decided.  If  he  was  not  the  best  scholar,  which 
could  hardly  be  expected  of  a  youth  prepared  for  college  in 
about  ten  or  eleven  months,  he  was  certainly  the  most  remark- 
able and  promising  member  of  his  class.  This  the  professors 
all  saw  as  soon  as  he  stood  up  before  them.  They  saw  it  more 
plainly  when  they  listened  to  his  voice.  Even  then,  according 
to  the  testimony  of  two  of  his  classmates,  one  of  whom  is  still 
living,  he  was  as  dignified,  as  easy,  as  elegant,  as  he  ever  was 
in  after  life.  His  appeal  to  the  Faculty,  after  his  examination 
was  concluded,  and  they  were  about  to  deliberate,  as  he  thought, 
upon  his  merits,  was  exactly  after  the  manner  of  his  riper 
years.  Referring  to  the  haste,  in  which  he  had  been  sum- 
moned before  them,  and  the  unfortunate  apsect  he  presented, 
he  made  use  of  language,  which,  before  many  a  tribunal,  would 
have  gained  the  case :  "  Thus  you  see  me,"  said  he,  "  as  I  am, 
if  not  entitled  to  your  approbation,  at  least  to  your  sympathy." 


DEMEANOR    AS    A    STUDENT.  51 

His  general  demeanor  as  a  student  is  worthy  of  particular 
remark:  "Mr.  Webster,  while  in  college,"  says  Professor 
Shurtliff,  "  was  remarkable  for  his  steady  habits,  his  intense  ap- 
plication to  study,  and  his  punctual  attendance  upon  all  the  pre- 
scribed exercises.  1  know  not  that  he  was  absent  from  a  reci- 
tation, or  from  morning  and  evening  prayers  in  the  chapel,  or 
from  public  worship  on  the  Sabbath ;  and  I  doubt  if  ever  a 
smile  was  seen  upon  his  fiice  during  any  religious  exercise.  He 
was  always  in  his  place,  and  with  a  decorum  suited  to  it.  He 
had  no  collision  with  any  one,  nor  appeared  to  enter  into 
the  concerns  of  others,  but  emphatically  minded  his  own  busi- 
ness. But  as  steady  as  the  sun,  he  pursued  with  intense  ap 
plication  the  great  object  for  which  he  came  to  college."  Many 
a  young  man  in  college  has  been  misled,  deceived,  ruined  by 
the  vaunted  examples,  like  those  of  Byron  and  of  Shelly,  of 
successful  idleness.  They  forgot,  however,  while  following  such 
guides,  the  laborious  efforts  of  nine-tenths  of  the  greatest  men 
of  modern  history.  If  they  wish  to  behold  another  proof  of 
the  value  of  hard  study,  let  them  look  here  into  the  early  life 
of  Daniel  Webster,  who,  though  endowed  by  nature  beyond 
any  one  of  his  day,  did  not  reach  the  highest  eminence,  nor 
could  he  satisfy  the  requirements  of  his  mind,  without  the  most 
diligent  and  thorough  application  to  his  studies. 

The  freshman  and  sophomore  classes  at  Dartmouth,  at  this 
time,  devoted  themselves  to  the  rudiments  of  the  mathematics, 
to  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages,  and  to  regular  exercises  in 
speaking  and  in  composition.  In  mathematics,  especially  the 
higher  mathematics,  Daniel  Webster  took  no  great  interest,  as 
he  did  not  regard  this  branch  of  study  as  very  practical,  nor 
therefore  as  very  important.  His  mind,  indeed,  always 
leaned  toward  facts,  and  the  proper  use  of  facts,  rather  than  to- 
ward calculations.  The  languages,  however,  were  his  delight. 
He  pursued  them  as  did  no  other  student  of  the  institution. 
He  went  to  the  bottom  of  them,  making  himself  thoroughly 
VOL.  i.  C  4 


52  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

acquainted  with  their  elements,  their  first  principles,  and  their 
philosophy.  He  was  the  best,  the  deepest,  grammarian  of  his 
college.  He  studied  carefully  the  origin,  the  history,  the  exact 
meanings,  and  the  perversions  of  words.  His  philosophical  and 
comprehensive  mind  would  not  be  satisfied  with  knowing  the 
use  of  words  simply,  but  he  at  once  sought  out  their  relations 
to  other  words,  and  put  them  into  their  etymological  places 
according  to  their  mutual  relationships,  thus  abridging  the  im- 
mense task  of  learning  the  vocabulary  of  the  languages  by  ma- 
king out  for  himself  brief  and  logical  classifications.  lie  paid 
special  attention,  also,  to  the  formation  of  a  good  style  of  ren 
dering  his  classics  into  English.  He  endeavored  to  catch  the 
manner  of  his  author  and  then  copy  it  in  his  version.  He  thus 
studied  language  and  rhetoric  together.  Among  all  the  works 
of  the  first  two  years,  Gcero,  as  might  be  expected,  was  his 
favorite  author.  Him  he  read,  day  and  night,  not  barely  as  a 
school-boy,  but  as  a  philosopher,  as  a  critic,  and  particularly 
with  a  view  to  a  knowledge  of  the  fundamental  principles  of 
elocution.  He  would  read,  and  re-read,  those  orations  which 
charmed  the  Roman  senate  and  the  Roman  people,  as  if  they 
were  his  own  speeches,  and  he  was  delivering  them  to  an  actual 
auditory.  He  made  himself  perfectly  familiar  with  them,  so 
that  he  could  repeat  several  of  them  from  memory,  and  make 
large  quotations  from  any  of  them,  without  a  moment's  warning. 
After  uttering  long  passages  to  his  class-mates,  he  would  criticise 
their  style,  showing  up  the  faults,  or  pointing  out  the  merits, 
of  the  great  orator.  In  this  way,  he  made  the  pervading  spirit 
of  Roman  eloquence,  in  its  highest  form,  his  own  spirit,  a  part 
of  his  own  way  of  thinking  and  of  speaking,  which  continued 
with  him,  and  was  afterwards  always  manifest  in  him,  in  his 
greatest  efforts. 

It  was  at  this  time,  too,  that  he  acquired  that  taste  for  classic 
poetry,  and  especially  his  partiality  for  Virgil,  which  never  left 
him.  The  author  of  the  iEneid,  next  to  Cicero,  was  to  him 


HIS    LOVE     OF     THE    CLASSICS.  53 

the  most  captivating  of  the  Roman  writers.  He  read  «:he 
poems  of  this  classic,  and  particularly  his  great  epic,  so  re- 
peatedly and  constantly,  that  he  could  quote  the  most  remark- 
able passages,  while  yet  a  boy.  as  he  used  to  quote  them  after 
he  became  a  man.  Those  who  have  had  the  good  fortune  to 
hear  him,  on  the  platform,  or  at  the  bar,  or  in  the  senate,  have 
often  wondered  at  the  readiness  with  which,  on  the  spur  of  a 
moment,  without  the  opportunity  of  any  preparation,  he  would 
rise  to  his  feet,  and,  in  the  course  of  an  extemporaneous  debate, 
not  only  utter  himself  in  the  most  classic  English,  but  make 
the  most  apposite  quotations  from  the  Roman  classics,  and  es- 
pecially from  the  Roman  poets.  His  quotations  always  seemed 
to  be,  indeed,  more  to  the  point,  than  those  of  any  other  ora- 
tor of  modern  times.  This  facility,  which  was  actually  a  pow- 
er, he  laid  the  foundation  for  during  his  first  and  second  years 
in  college. 

While  he  was  thus  making  such  deep  and  lasting  acquisi- 
tions in  the  department  of  language,  it  must  not  be  supposed, 
that,  though  not  enthusiastic  in  the  mathematics,  he  was  neg- 
lectful of  them.  It  was  never  his  habit  to  neglect  anything  that 
properly  belonged  to  him.  He  studied  this  branch  well,  and 
obtained  a  good  reputation  in  it ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  modera- 
tion of  his  zeal  in  these  studies,  he  was  always  at  home,  and 
could  stand  his  ground  under  the  most  critical  examination.  It 
is  probable,  however,  that  it  was  sometimes  his  power  of  mind, 
rather  than  his  knowledge,  by  which  he  maintained  his  points, 
and  made  himself  even  popular  in  this  department.  "  He 
gained  me,"  says  the  venerable  Judge  Woodward,  at  that  time 
the  professor  of  mathematics,  "  by  combatting  my  opinions ; 
for  I  often  attacked  him,  merely  to  try  his  strength." 

During  the  whole  of  these  first  two  years,  he  devoted  a  great 
share  of  his  time  to  general  reading  and  to  composition.  His 
class-mates  spent  their  hours  principally  in  preparing  their  les- 
sons, making  but  few  excursions  into  the  world  of  knowledge 


54  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

outside  of  their  class-room  authors.  He,  on  the  oth«r  hand, 
after  making  a  thorough  preparation  for  his  recitations,  found 
time  to  read  extensively  in  history,  in  poetry,  and  in  criticism. 
American  and  English  history,  however,  and  the  American 
and  English  classical  belles-lettres  writers,  were  his  chief 
study.  The  history  of  England  he  studied  with  a  glowing 
interest.  He  seemed  to  have  a  passion  for  it.  Every  book 
written  about  England,  for  or  against,  historical,  political,  or  de- 
scriptive, he  devoured.  The  discovery  and  first  settlement  of 
this  country,  also,  the  struggles  of  the  several  American  plan- 
tations, the  wars  with  the  Indians,  and  everything  pertaining  to 
that  primitive  period  of  our  annals,  he  read  with  equal  interest. 
Our  great  men  were  then  just  in  the  act  of  giving  a  perma- 
nent existence,  an  established  character,  to  our  national  govern- 
ment. What  they  were  doing,  and  what  they  generally  pro- 
posed to  do,  arrested  and  occupied  his  serious  attention.  From 
the  day  of  the  cotton  handkerchief,  he  had  been  a  student  and 
a  great  admirer  of  the  constitution.  While  in  college,  he  could 
repeat  it,  and  did  more  than  once  repeat  it,  from  beginning  to 
end,  from  recollection.  He  could  remark  upon  it,  too,  and  that 
wisely,  as  well  as  rehearse  it.  He  took  special  pleasure  in 
tracing  the  various  provisions  of  the  constitution  to  something 
that  had  preexisted  in  the  institutions  of  Great  Britain,  or  to 
the  historical  attempts  made,  at  different  periods,  by  the  En- 
glish patriots,  to  introduce  new  features  into  the  government 
of  their  country.  Questions  frequently  arose,  in  the  debates 
of  the  students,  relating  to  English  and  American  affairs,  in 
none  of  which  could  any  student  stand  a  moment  against  the 
thorough  knowledge,  the  wide  views,  the  deep  reasoning,  and 
the  graceful  as  well  as  commanding  and  overpowering  elocu- 
tion of  Daniel  Webster. 

Not  only  in  books,  studied  as  described  with  the  ardor  of  a 
devotee,  and  with  the  penetration  of  a  philosopher,  but  from 
living  examples,  from  existing  models,  did  he  pursue  his  inves- 


STUDIES    THE    GREAT    ORATORS.  5ft 

tigations  respecting  eloquence.  The  same  spirit,  which,  at  Ex 
eter,  would  not  suffer  him  to  make  a  declaration,  was  now 
burning  in  his  bosom  like  a  vestal  fire,  and  urging  him  on  to  a 
most  profound  knowledge  of  the  principles  and  practice  of  true 
oratory.  After  Cicero  had  become  as  familiar  to  him  as  his 
alphabet,  he  read  Demosthenes  with  great  animation,  but,  per- 
haps, not  with  so  perfect  an  appreciation.  The  mind  of  De- 
mosthenes, though  forcible,  wras  not  so  wide  and  comprehensive 
as  to  make  him,  in  this  respect,  preeminent.  He  was  a  man 
of  sound  thought,  of  clear  ideas,  of  great  skill  in  argument ; 
but  his  fame  arose  rather  from  the  quickness  and  keenness  of 
his  temper,  from  the  rapidity  of  his  conceptions,  from  the  im- 
petuosity of  his  spirit,  from  the  irresistible  bursts  of  his  fiery 
passion.  Such  a  man,  such  a  mind,  could  not  be  the  favorite 
with  a  cool,  deliberate,  broad,  slow,  but  mighty  mind,  like  that 
of  Daniel  Webster.  Demosthenes,  though  laborious  in  writing 
out  his  speeches,  did  not  think  enough,  was  not  calm  enough, 
for  Webster.  Cicero,  on  the  other  hand,  was  calm.  He  was 
also  deep,  wide,  philosophical,  and  yet  passionate.  There  were 
many  points  of  resemblance  between  the  American  and  the 
Roman ;  and  the  Roman  was  always,  both  in  youth,  and  in 
mature  age,  the  chosen  model,  so  far  as  there  was  any  model, 
with  the  great  American.  The  truth  is,  however,  young  Web- 
ster made  no  one  man  his  model.  The  classic  orators  were 
read,  studied,  criticised ;  and  all  that  suited  the  temper  and 
taste  of  the  student  were  thoroughly  incorporated  into  his  own 
mental  being.  But  he  studied,  particularly  at  about  the  end  of 
his  first  two  years  in  college,  the  English  and  American  orators 
with  as  much  zeal  as  ever  he  had  studied  the  Roman  and  the 
Grecian.  What  a  galaxy  of  great  debaters  were  then  before 
him,  in  England  and  in  this  country  !  Pitt,  Fox,  Burke,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  had  electrified  all  Europe,  and  im- 
mortalized their  names,  in  the  wilds  of  a  new  continent,  by  those 
wonderful  efforts,  the  like  of  which  Europe  had  never  before 


50  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

witnessed.  On  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  Fisher  Ames,  Patrick 
Henry,  Samuel  and  John  Aclams,  and  Alexander  Ilamiltoa 
had  won  for  themselves,  both  here  and  in  England,  an  equal  im- 
mortality. All  these  great  orators  were  thoroughly  studied  by 
young  Webster.  No  man  could  he  meet  from  Boston,  or  from 
New  York,  or  from  Philadelphia,  where  our  eloquent  patriots 
were  most  in  the  habit  of  making  their  celebrated  speeches,  but 
the  young  student  would  exhaust  the  vocabulary  in  asking  ques- 
tions about  their  personal  appearance,  their  style  of  speaking, 
their  voice,  their  gesture,  their  general  demeanor  on  the  plat- 
form. In  this  way,  he  acquired  a  large  stock  of  the  most  use- 
ful information,  respecting  the  art  that  nature  had  chosen  for 
him ;  and  he  thus  drew  up  his  own  judgment,  and  formed  his 
own  style,  with  the  advantages  of  much  previous  study,  and 
from  a  wide  induction  of  the  most  illustrious  examples.  If 
there  was  any  one  individual,  that  deserves  to  be  considered  as 
Daniel  Webster's  model  in  oratory,  that  man  was  undoubtedly 
Alexander  Hamilton ;  and  it  is  not  singular,  that  the  elder 
should  also  have  been  almost  a  pattern  to  the  younger  states- 
man, in  nearly  every  other  matter  pertaining  to  their  political 
character  and  public  services.  A  man's  oratory,  in  fact,  is  an 
expression,  and  the  best  possible  expression,  of  his  character ; 
it  is  the  man  himself  making  a  revelation  of  his  own  inward 
being ;  and  it  was  never  more  thoroughly  such  a  revelation, 
than  in  the  example  of  the  two  patriots,  whose  memories  are 
thus  linked  together.  It  is  fortunate  for  the  reader,  and  for  all 
students  of  true  eloquence,  that  Webster  has  happened  to  give 
the  ideal  of  oratory  as  formed  within  him,  at  the  period  and  in 
the  manner  before  mentioned ;  and  it  is  equally  fortunate,  that 
this  ideal  happens,  also,  to  be  a  perfect  exposition  of  what  was 
common  to  two  statesmen,  whose  superiors  have  nevei  risen  up, 
and  possibly  may  never  rise  up,  among  us :  "  True  eloquence, 
indeed,  does  not  consist  in  speech.  It  cannot  be  brought  from 
far.  Labor  and  learning  may  toil  for  it,  but  they  will  toil  in 


HIS    DESCRIPTION    Of    TRUE    ELOQUENCE.  57 

vain.  Words  and  phrases  may  be  marshaled  in  every  way,, 
but  they  cannot  compass  it.  It  must  exist  in  the  man,  in  the 
subject,  and  in  the  occasion.  Affected  passion,  intense  expres- 
sion, the  pomp  of  declamation,  all  may  aspire  after  it,  but  they 
cannot  reach  it.  It  .c^oies,  if  it  comes  at  all,  like  the  outbreak- 
ing of  a  fountain  from  the  earth,  or  the  bursting  forth  of  vol- 
canic fires  with  spontaneous,  origin;il.  native  force.  The  graces 
taught  in  the  schools,  the  costly  ornaments  and  studied  contri- 
vances of  speech,  shock  and  disgust  men,  when  their  own  lives, 
and  the  fate  of  their  wives,  their  children,  and  their  country, 
hang  on  the  decision  of  the  hour ;  then  words  have  lost  their 
power,  and  rhetoric  is  vain,  and  all  the  elaborate  oratory  is  con- 
temptible. Even  genius  itself  then  feels  rebuked  and  subdued, 
as  in  the  presence  of  higher  qualities.  Then  patriotism  is  elo- 
quent ;  then  self-devotion  is  eloquent.  The  clear  conception 
outrunning  the  deductions  of  logic,  the  high  purpose,  the  firm 
resolve,  the  dauntless  spirit  speaking  on  the  tongue,  beaming 
from  the  eye,  informing  every  feature,  and  urging  the  whole 
man  onward — right  onward  to  his  object — this,  this  is  elo- 
quence ! " 

At  the  end  of  the  first  two  years,  the  young  student  weno 
home  to  pass  the  time  of  the  long  vacation.  Keeping  with  his 
books  at  night,  and  at  all  times  when  not  otherwise  demanded 
by  his  father,  he  went  into  the  field  by  day,  and  entered  into  all 
the  labors  of  the  farm  as  if  he  had  never  left  it  for  an  hour. 
When  at  his  studies,  or  engaged  in  any  serious  occupation  of 
the  mind,  he  was  always  himself  serious,  and  would  sit  hour 
after  hour,  in  the  family  circle,  surrounded  by  all  sorts  of  ope- 
rations, absorbed,  swallowed  up,  lost  in  the  author,  or  in  the 
topics,  he  had  in  hand.  The  moment,  however,  that  he  had  fin- 
ished his  intellectual  labor,  or  was  called  away  by  other  duties 
from  the  employments  of  his  mind,  he  was  at  once  changed, 
transformed  completely,  into  a  perfect  embodiment  of  sport 
His  health  was  good ;  his  intellect  was  sound  and  active;  hw 


58  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

studies  were  giving  delightful  exercise  to  all  his  faculties;  he 
was  emerging,  every  day,  from  the  life  of  a  mere  plough-boy, 
in  an  obscure  portion  of  the  country,  into  the  great  world  of 
letters,  which,  covering  the  world,  makes  of  it  something  like  a 
universal  brotherhood  of  kindred  spirits.  .  Though  not  yet  a 
member  of  that  brotherhood,  he  was  a  candidate  for  member- 
ship, and  every  step  he  took  forward,  which  brought  him  nearer 
to  the  final  goal,  gave  him  new  animation,  and  increased  the 
buoyancy  of  his  ever-buoyant  soul.  Whenever  his  books  were 
thrown  aside,  he  seemed  no  longer  the  studious  recluse,  the 
thoughtful  and  brow-knitting  scholar,  but  the  jovial  companion, 
overflowing  with  genuine  wit,  and  equally  ready  to  laugh  at  or 
to  make  a  joke.  It  was  his  growing  mirth,  rather  than  the  in- 
creasing acquisitions  of  his  mind,  that  made  him  more  and 
more  the  universal  favorite  of  the  field.  He  could  then  tell  a 
good  story  ;  and  his  powers  of  representing  characters,  of  mim- 
icking, of  taking  off  what  was  ludicrous,  of  dashing  along  with 
the  lively  and  the  gay,  of  making  the  hayfield  ring  with  laugh- 
ter, or  of  raising  sport  that  would  set  the  long  drawn  table  in 
a  roar,  marked  him  then,  as  they  have  marked  him  through  the 
soberest  periods  of  his  life. 

On  a  certain  day,  his  father,  who  was  about  leaving  home  to 
be  gone  till  night,  gave  directions  to  Ezekiel  and  Daniel  to  per- 
form a  piece  of  work.  After  he  was  gone,  the  boys  took  it 
into  their  heads,  not  out  of  a  spirit  of  disobedience,  but  with  that 
discretion  which  they  thought  they  were  now  about  old  enough 
to  use,  to  defer  the  work  enjoined  upon  them  to  another  day. 
Still,  they  were  not  entirely  certain  that  their  decision  would  be 
approved,  especially  as  it  left  them  little  or  nothing  at  all  to  do. 
Ezekiel,  as  usual,  was  rather  sober  about  it.  Daniel  was  as 
lively  as  ever.  At  night,  on  his  return,  the  father,  seeing  the 
work  unperformed,  spoke  rather  sharply  to  them :  "  Ezekiel, 
what  have  you  been  doing  all  day  ?  "  "  Nothing,"  said  the 
culprit  "  And  what  have  yon  been  doing,  Daniel  ?  "  "  Help- 


OENERAL    SERIOUSNESS    OF    DIE  POSITION.  59 

ing  Zeke,  sir,"  said  the  rogue  in  a  very  solemn  way.  Tlie  re- 
ply of  Ezekiel  left  the  father  not  softened.  Daniel's  wit  warmed 
him  into  a  pleasant  smile.  That  same  wit  has  often  gained 
other  victories  of  more  importance  to  the  world. 

On  another  day,  during  the  long  vacation,  Daniel  was  put  to 
mowing,  when  he  had  a  book  about  him  that  he  was  exceed- 
ingly anxious  to  peruse.  The  work  was  not  very  pressing,  and 
Daniel  knew  it.  He  was,  therefore,  the  more  at  liberty  to 
drop  his  scythe,  now  and  then,  and  fall  under  a  bush,  or  into 
the  shadow  of  an  elm,  and  read.  He  was  perfectly  aware,  too, 
that  his  father,  though  anxious  always  to  have  every  person  do 
a  good  day's  work,  was  never  so  easily  satisfied  with  his  boys 
for  doing  less  than  was  expected  of  them,  as  when  they  neg- 
lected their  labor  for  their  books.  On  that  day,  certainly, 
Daniel  was  not  doing  much  ;  and  lie  complained,  whenever  his 
lather  came  to  him,  that  the  scythe  was  not  properly  hung. 
The  father  set  it  for  him  a  number  of  times;  but  all  to  no  pur 
pose.  Daniel  was  still  doing  but  little.  At  length,  a  little  im 
patient,  the  father  came  and  inquired  into  the  matter  more  mi- 
nutely. The  answer  still  was,  that  the  scythe  was  not  well 
hung.  "  Hang  it  yourself,  then,"  said  the  father,  "  and  hang  it 
to  suit  you."  Taking  the  full  advantage  of  these  instructions, 
Daniel  went  to  where  the  scythe  was  lying,  picked  it  up  leis- 
urely, brought  it  to  the  place  where  he  had  been  sitting,  and  hung 
it  up  very  carefully  on  a  limb  of  the  tree.  "There,  sir,"  said 
the  laggard,  "  it  now  hangs  just  right."  In  the  mean  time,  the 
father  had  seen  the  book ;  he  accordingly  received  the  witticism 
with  another  of  his  smiles  ;  and  that  was  the  end,  to  Daniel,  of 
that  day's  work. 

With  all  these  pleasantries,  however,  the  general  tenor,  the 
main  current,  of  Daniel's  life,  at  this  period,  was  serious.  He 
had  undertaken  a  great  matter.  He  had  engaged  in  it  with  all 
his  might.  He  understood  its  import,  and  meant  to  be  thorough 
and  complete.  He  road,  stwiied,  and  conversed,  with  the  one 
VOL.  i.  C* 


60  WEESTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

end  in  view,  of  disciplining  his  faculties,  jf  enlarging  the  amount 
and  sphere  of  his  knowledge,  of  laying  a  broad  and  deep  foun 
dation  for  future  use.  His  diligence,  instead  of  abating,  grew 
with  his  advancement  day  by  day ;  and  that  advancement  had 
even  now  become  such  as  to  inspire  all  his  friends  with  the  most 
exalted  expectations  of  his  after  life.  His  growth  in  knowledge 
was  particularly  gratifying  to  Mr.  Thompson  and  Dr.  Wood, 
his  early  friends,  whose  patronage  came  to  him  as  a  tribute  to 
the  strength,  originality,  and  promise  of  his  mind.  Colonel 
Webster,  a  sagacious  man,  could  not  fail  to  see  the  maturing 
greatness  of  his  son.  He  began  to  behold  the  first  fruits  of  his 
education  ;  and,  on  several  occasions,  mentioned  the  satisfaction 
that  Daniel's  success  had  given  him,  to  his  mother.  That  mo- 
ther, his  first  teacher,  and  a  glorious  woman,  had  seen  it  all,  had 
enjoyed  it  all,  had  looked  upon  him  with  a  mother's  eye,  and 
regarded  him  as  her  noblest  jewel.  She  needed  no  one  to  tell 
her  of  the  superiority  of  Daniel's  mind,  no  one  to  assure  her 
of  his  ultimate  greatness  and  success,  no  one  to  display  to  her 
admiration  the  excellent  qualities  of  his  moral  nature,  his  mag- 
nanimity, his  disinterestedness,  his  kindness  of  heart,  his  great 
tenderness  and  benevolence  of  soul.  All  these  she  had  discov- 
ered, had  admired,  had  doted  on  in  secret,  had  treasured  up 
among  her  fondest  recollections,  from  the  earliest  years  of  his 
infancy.  It  must  be  acknowledged,  without  doubt,  that  she  was 
even  proud  of  him  ;  but  it  may  be  left  to  other  mothers,  who 
have  had  similar  fortune,  to  urge  this  against  her  as  a  fault. 

The  moral  sentiment  of  Daniel  Webster,  at  this  season  of 
his  life,  was  never  more  happily  illustrated,  perhaps,  than  by 
the  interest  he  took  in  the  education  of  his  brother.  Then  in 
the  full  enjoyment  of  study,  with  the  highest  prospects  rising 
up  before  him,  which  gave  him  the  utmost  exhileration  of  soul, 
he  could  not  rest,  he  would  not  rest,  he  did  not  rest,  till  the 
same  advantages  were  furnished  to  Ezekiel.  This  part  of  his 
history  is  told  by  Professor  San  horn :  "After  a  residence  of 


HIS  AFFECTION  FOB  HIS  BROTHER.  61 

two  years  at  college,  he  spent  a  vacation  at  home.  lie  had 
tasted  the  sweets  of  literature,  and  enjoyed  the  victories  of  in 
tellectual  effort.  He  loved  the  scholar's  life.  He  felt  keenly 
for  the  condition  of  his  brother  Ezekiel,  who  was  destined  to 
remain  on  the  farm,  and  labor  to  lift  the  mortgage  from  the  old 
homestead,  and  furnish  the  means  of  his  brother's  support. 
Ezekiel  was  a  farmer  in  spirit  and  in  practice.  He  led  his 
laborers  in  the  field,  as  he  afterwards  led  his  class  in  Greek. 
Daniel  knew  and  appreciated  his  superior  intellectual  endow- 
ments. He  resolved  that  his  brother  should  enjoy  the  same 
privileges  with  himself.  One  night  the  two  brothers  retired  to 
bed,  but  not  to  sleep.  They  discoursed  of  their  prospects. 
Daniel  utterly  refused  to  enjoy  the  fruit  of  his  brother's  labor 
any  longer.  They  were  united  in  sympathy  and  affection  ;  and 
they  must  be  united  in  their  pursuits.  But  how  could  they 
leave  their  beloved  parents,  in  age  and  solitude,  with  no  pro- 
tector ]  They  talked  and  wept,  and  wept  and  talked,  till  dawn 
of  day.  They  dared  not  broach  the  matter  to  their  father, 
finally,  Dawiel  resolved  to  be  the  orator  on  the  occasion. 
Judge  Webster  was  then  somewhat  burdened  with  debts. 
He  was  advanced  in  age,  and  had  set  his  heart  upon  having 
Ezekiel  as  his  helper.  The  very  thought  of  separation  from 
both  his  sons  was  painful  to  him.  When  the  proposition 
was  made,  he  felt  as  did  the  patriarch  of  old,  when  he  exclaimed, 
'  Joseph  is  not ;  and  will  ye  also  take  Benjamin  away  1 '  A 
family  council  was  called.  The  mother's  opinion  was  asked. 
She  was  a  strong  minded  woman.  She  was  not  blind  to  the 
superior  endowments  of  her  sons.  With  all  a  mother's  par- 
tiality, however,  she  did  not  over-estimate  their  powers.  She 
decided  the  matter  at  once :  '  I  have  lived  long  in  the  world, 
and  have  been  happy  in  my  children.  If  Daniel  and  Ezekiel 
will  promise  to  take  care  of  me  in  my  old  age,  I  will  consent 
to  the  sale  of  all  our  property  at  once,  and  they  may  enjoy  the 
benefit  of  that  which  remains  after  our  debts  are  paid.'  This 


02  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

was  a  moment  of  intense  interest  to  all  the  parties.  Parents 
and  children  all  mingled  their  tears  together,  and  sobbed  aloud, 
at  the  thought  of  separation.  The  father  yielded  to  the  en- 
treaties of  his  sons  and  the  advice  of  his  wife.  Daniel  returned 
to  college ;  and  Ezekiel  took  his  little  bundle  in  his  hand,  and 
sought  on  foot  the  scene  of  his  preparatory  studies.  In  one 
year,  he  joined  his  younger  brother  in  college." 

When  it  is  said  of  a  man,  in  order  to  indicate  the  character 
and  amount  of  his  mental  discipline,  that  he  is  a  graduate  of 
college,  no  reliable  idea  is  given.  Nothing  more  indefinite 
could  be  said.  The  colleges  of  one  country  differ  exceedingly, 
in  every  way,  from  the  colleges  of  another.  The  institutions 
of  a  single  country,  at  one  period  of  its  history,  differ  as  greatly 
from  the  same  institutions  at  another  period.  The  schools  of 
the  same  nation,  and  of  the  same  age,  are  often  scarcely  com- 
parable with  each  other.  And  these  facts  must  not  be  forgot- 
ten in  estimating  the  native  abilities  and  the  intellectual  train- 
ing of  Daniel  Webster.  He  studied  four  years  in  a  university. 
This  is  certain.  It  is  certain  that  he  entered  the  institution  re- 
spectably prepared.  It  is  equally  certain  that  he  maintained  a 
good  rank  as  a  member  of  the  college  classes.  The  rumor,  so 
current  once,  and  so  readily  caught  up  by  injudicious  gossip, 
that  he  stood  low  at  school  as  a  student,  is  entirely  without 
foundation.  As  things  then  were,  as  education  was  then  under- 
stood, he  was  decidedly  above  the  average  standing,  and  in 
many  respects  without  a  rival.  He  was  as  much  a  lion,  while 
a  school -boy  among  his  associates,  as  he  ever  was  in  congress, 
at- the  bar,  or  on  the  platform,  among  the  greatest  men  of  the 
nation,  and  of  other  nations.  As  the  discipline  he  received  was 
not  such  as  is  now  given  at  our  universities,  it  will  be  pertinent 
to  state  farther,  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  will  wish  to  see 
the  whole  meaning  and  force  of  his  great  example,  the  course 
of  studies  he  pursued  till  he  removed  from  college. 

Having,  during  hie  first  two  years,  completed  the  classks,  a* 


HIS    CHOICE    OF    STUDIES.  63 

they  were  then  read,  together  with  pure  mathematics,  the  third 
year  was  devoted  to  natural  philosophy,  to  moral  philosophy, 
and  to  rhetoric.  Natural  philosophy  was  then,  what  it  is  now, 
an  application  of  the  higher  mathematics  to  natural  science.  In 
this  department,  while  he  was  prepared  to  be  delighted,  and  was 
delighted,  with  the  views  of  nature  thus  presented  to  him,  he 
failed  to  realize  as  much  pleasure  and  profit  from  it,  as  he  would 
have  realized,  had  he  not  chosen  not  to  be  very  deeply  inter- 
ested in  mathematics.  With  this  disadvantage,  nevertheless,  he 
was  about  equal  to  the  best  of  his  competitors,  but  was  estima- 
ted lower  than  he  should  have  been,  because  he  permitted  such 
a  difference  to  exist  between  his  marked  ability  and  his  recita- 
tions. A  person  acknowledged  to  be  remarkable,  must  always 
be  remarkable  in  every  thing  he  does,  or  he  fails  to  receive  the 
credit  positively  belonging  to  his  performances.  Milo  must 
always  carry  the  ox,  whether  lie  wished  to  carry  him  or  not,  or 
the  superficial  were  ready  to  believe,  that  he  could  not  bear  a 
heavier  burden  than  common  people. 

In  moral  philosophy,  and  in  rhetoric,  however,  no  such  con- 
siderations need  be  offered.  In  both  these  studies,  Daniel  Web- 
ster had  no  equal  in  the  university  among  the  students.  It  is 
doubtful  whether  he  had  his  superior,  in  all  respects,  among  the 
teachers.  His  style  as  a  writer  and  speaker,  it  is  true,  was  then 
far  from  being  what  it  became  afterwards ;  and  it  might  have 
been  decidedly  inferior,  in  point  of  accuracy  and  finish,  to  that 
of  the  weakest  professor.  But,  taking  his  mind,  his  thought, 
his  logic,  his  energy  and  power  into  the  account ;  taking  into 
consideration  the  earnest  spirit,  the  lofty  tone,  the  depth  and 
breadth,  of  his  range  and  reach  of  thought ;  and  it  is  nearly 
certain,  if  not  quite  certain,  from  what  we  now  possess  of  the 
efforts  of  that  day,  that  no  man  in  college,  student  or  professor 
was  entirely  his  equal.  His  conceptions,  it  is  confessed,  were 
frequently  too  glaringly  bold  for  good  taste,  but  they  were  not 
bald.  They  were  full  of  meaning,  of  sense,  of  powerful  thought- 


64  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

His  diction,  too,  was  daring,  bombastic,  sometimes  turgid  to 
the  last  degree  of  fault ;  but  it  was  the  diction,  as  every  one 
could  see,  and  as  every  one  could  see  with  all  needful  apology, 
of  a  masterly  mind,  crowded  with  ideas  too  big  for  such  utter- 
ance as  he  had  then  acquired. 

On  the  4th  of  July,  1800,  when  he  was  in  his  seventeenth 
year,  and  a  junior  in  college,  he  delivered  an  oration  to  the  cit- 
izens and  students,  at  their  joint  request.  It  is  still  extant ;  and 
though,  in  comparison  with  the  immortal  efforts  of  mature  life,  it 
bears  no  great  resemblance  to  them,  an  inquirer  into  his  genius 
and  character  might  rather  lose  almost  any  one  of  his  master-pie- 
ces, than  to  fail  of  reading  and  studying  this.  The  master-pieces 
are  numerous;  they  show  what  a  great  man  is;  but  the  first 
performance  can  be  only  one ;  and  that  one  exhibits  clearly  the 
starting-point,  the  origin,  the  germ,  of  all  that  was  to  come.  In 
the  later  efforts,  we  see  what  the  man  is  by  simple  induction, 
by  arguments  a  posteriori,  by  a  very  common  and  hackneyed 
process.  In  the  first  attempt,  where  nature  speaks,  before  art 
has  taken  the  control  of  nature,  when  the  inner  soul  utters  it 
self  unconsciously,  we  look  forward  to  the  future  being,  to  his 
coming  greatness,  by  the  more  beautiful  method  a  priori,  as  a 
man  traces  a  stream  from  its  fountain-head  till  it  reaches  the 
great  ocean,  or  as  a  seer,  a  prophet,  looks  down  the  track  of 
time,  and  beholds  the  grandest  developments  from  the  most 
inconsiderable  of  causes. 

No  one,  familiar  with  Daniel  Webster's  style,  \vill  fail  to  see, 
in  every  part  of  his  virgin  effort,  much  of  the  man  in  the  style 
and  manner  of  the  boy.  Let  the  reader,  who  has  heard  him 
speak  for  the  last  ten  or  fifteen  years,  call  up  to  his  imagination 
a  picture  of  the  mature  orator,  as  he  was  whenever  he  saw  and 
heard  him,  and  with  that  in  view. draw  another  picture,  as  he 
peruses  the  exordium  of  that  juvenile  address  : 

"  Countrymen,  brethren  and  fathers:  We  are  now  assem- 
bled to  celebrate  an  anniversary,  ever  to  be  held  in  dear  remem- 


HIS    FIRST    ORATION.  65 

brance  by  the  sons  of  freedom.  Nothing  less  than  the  birth 
of  a  nation,  nothing  less  than  the  emancipation  of  three  millions 
of  people  from  the  degrading  chains  of  foreign  dominion,  is  the 
event  we  commemorate. 

"  Twenty -four  years  have  this  day  elapsed,  since  these  United 
States  first  raised  the  standard  of  Liberty,  and  echoed  the  shouts 
of  Independence. 

"  Those  of  you,  who  wera  then  reaping  the  iron  harvest  of 
the  martial  field,  whose  bosoms  then  palpitated  for  the  honor 
of  America,  will,  at  this  time,  experience  a  renewal  of  all  that 
fervent  patriotism,  of  all  those  indescribable  emotions,  which 
then  agitated  your  breasts.  As  for  us,  who  were  either  then 
unborn,  or  not  ilir  enough  advanced  beyond  the  threshold  of 
existence,  to  engage  in  the  grand  conflict  for  Liberty,  we  now 
most  cordially  unite  with  you  to  greet  the  return  of  this  joyous 
anniversary,  to  welcome  the  return  of  the  day  that  gave  us 
Freedom,  and  to  hail  the  rising  glories  of  our  country  ! " 

That,  every  reader  will  say,  in  spite  of  its  grandiloquence,  in 
spite  of  one  or  two  inaccuracies  in  the  use  of  language,  such  as 
the  man  was  never  guilty  of,  is  a  splendid  exordium  for  a  boy 
of  sixteen  years. 

The  statement  of  the  subject,  as  in  all  his  future  speeches,  is 
brief,  clear  and  simple :  "  On  occasions  like  this,  you  have 
hitherto  been  addressed,  from  the  stage  " — he  means  the  plat- 
form— "  on  the  nature,  the  origin,  the  expediency  of  civil  go- 
vernment." lie  must  have  been  a  close  observer  to  have  ar- 
rived, at  so  early  an  age,  at  an  induction  so  general  and  truthful. 
"The  field  of  political  speculation  has  here  been  explored  by 
persons  possessing  taler.ts  to  which  the  speaker  of  the  day  can 
have  no  pretensions.  Declining  therefore,  a  dissertation  on  the 
principles  of  civil  polity" — which  he  pretty  clearly  understood, 
but  which  he  was  too  diffident  to  offer  as  the  topic  of  a  dis- 
soqrse — "  you  will  indulge  me  in  slightly  sketching  those  events, 


66  WEBSTEB   AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

which  ha^«  originated,  nurtured  and  raised  to  its  present  grand- 
eur this  n-rw  empire." 

The  orator  now  proceeds  directly  to  his  argument,  in  which 
he  gives  ft  succinct  history  of  the  country,  from  its  settlement 
to  the  close  of  the  revolutionary  war.  The  diction,  in  this 
part  of  the  performance,  by  no  means  equals  that  of  the  exor- 
dium :  "  As  no  nation  on  the  globe  can  rival  us  in  the  rapidity 
of  our  growth,  since  the  conclusion  of  the  revolutionary  war, 
so  none,  perhaps,  ever  endured  greater  hardships  and  distresses, 
than  the  people  of  this  country  previous  to  that  period. 

"  We  behold  a  feeble  band  of  colonists  engaged  in  the  ar- 
duous undertaking  of  a  new  settlement  in  the  wilds  of  North 
America.  Their  civil  liberty  being  mutilated,  and  the  enjoy- 
ment of  their  religious  sentiments  denied  them,  in  the  land  that 
gave  them  birth,  they  fled  their  country,  they  braved  the  dan- 
gers of  the  then  almost  unnavigated  ocean,  and  sought  on  the 
other  side  of  the  globe,  an  asylum  from  the  iron  grasp  of  tyr- 
anny and  the  more  intolerable  scourge  of  ecclesiastical  perse- 
cution. 

"  But  gloomy,  indeed,  was  the  prospect  when  arrived  on  this 
side  of  the  Atlantic. 

''•  Scattered  in  detachments  along  a  coast  immensely  exten- 
sive, at  a  distance  of  more  than  three  thousand  miles  from  their 
friends  on  the  eastern  continent,  they  were  exposed  to  all  those 
evils,  and  encountered  or  experienced  all  those  difficulties,  to 
which  human  nature  seemed  liable.  Destitute  of  convenient 
habitations,  the  inclemencies  of  the  seasons  harrassed  them,  the 
midnight  beasts  of  prey  prowled  terribly  around  them,  and  the 
more  portentous  yell  of  savage  fury  incessantly  assailed  them. 
But  the  same  undiminished  confidence  in  Almighty  God,  which 
prompted  the  first  settlers  of  this  country  to  forsake  the  un- 
friendly climes  of  Europe,  still  supported  them  under  all  their 
calamities,  and  inspired  them  with  fortitude  almost  divine. 
Having  a  glorious  issue  to  their  labors  now  in  prospect,  they 


FIRST    ORATION    CONTINUED.  6T 

cheerfully  enduied  the  rigors  of  the  climate,  pursued  the  sav- 
age beast  to  his  remotest  haunt,  and  stood,  undismayed,  in  the 
dismal  hour  of  Indian  battle. 

"  Scarcely  were  the  infant  settlements  freed  from  those  dan- 
gers, which  at  first  environed  them,  ere  the  clashing  interests  of 
France  and  Britain  involved  them  anew  in  war.  The  colonists 
were  now  destined  to  combat  with  well  appointed,  well  disciplined 
troops  from  Europe ;  and  the  horrors  of  the  tomahawk  and 
the  scalping  knife  were  again  renewed.  But  these  frowns  of 
fortune,  distressing  as  they  were,  had  been  met  without  a  sigh, 
and  endured  without  a  groan,  had  not  Great  Britain  presump- 
tuously arrogated  to  herself  the  glory  of  victories  achieved  by 
American  militia.  Louisburg  must  be  taken,  Canada  attacked, 
and  a  frontier  of  more  than  one  thousand  miles  defended  by 
untutored  yeomanry,  while  the  honor  of  every  conquest  must 
be  ascribed  to  an  English  army. 

"  But  while  Great  Britain  was  thus  tyranically  stripping  her 
colonies  of  their  well-earned  laurels,  and  triumphantly  weaving 
them  into  the  stupendous  wreath  of  her  own  martial  glories, 
she  wras  unwittingly  teaching  them  to  value  themselves,  and 
effectually  to  resist,  on  a  future  day,  her  unjust  encroachments. 

"  The  pitiful  tale  of  taxation  now  commenced — the  unhappy 
quarrel,  which  resulted  in  the  dismemberment  of  the  British 
Empire,  has  here  its  origin. 

"  England,  now  triumphant  over  the  united  powers  of  France 
and  Spain,  is  determined  to  reduce  to  the  condition  of  slaves 
her  American  subjects. 

"  We  might  now  display  the  legislatures  of  the  several  States, 
together  with  the  general  congress,  petitioning,  praying,  remon- 
strating ;  and,  like  dutiful  subjects,  humbly  laying  their  griey- 
ances  before  the  throne.  On  the  other  hand,  we  could  exhibit 
a  British  parliament,  assiduously  devising  means  to  subjugate 
America,  disdaining  our  petitions,  trampling  on  our  rights,  and 
menacingly  telling  us,  in  language  not  to  be  misunderstood, 
VOL.  j.  5 


68  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

ye  shall  be  slaves?  We  could  mention  the  haughty,  tyranni- 
cal, perfidious  Gage,  at  the  head  of  a  standing  army  ;  we  could 
show  our  brethren  attacked  and  slaughtered  at  Lexington  ;  our 
property  plundered  and  destroyed  at  Concord !  Recollections 
can  still  pain  us,  with  the  spiral  flames  of  burning  Charlestown, 
the  agonizing  groans  of  aged  parents,  the  shrieks  of  widows, 
orphans  and  infants ! 

"  Indelibly  impressed  on  our  memories,  still  lives  the  dis- 
mal scene  of  Bunker's  awful  mount,  the  grand  theatre  of  New 
England  bravery,  where  slaughter  stalked  grimly  triumphant ; 
where  relentless  Britain  saw  her  soldiers,  the  unhappy  instru- 
ments of  despotism,  fallen  in  heaps,  beneath  the  nervous  arm 
of  injured  freemen ! 

"  There  the  great  Warren  fought,  and  there,  alas !  he  fell ! 
Valuing  life  only  as  it  enabled  him  to  serve  his  country,  he 
freely  resigned  himself,  a  willing  martyr  in  the  cause  of  Lib- 
erty, and  now  lies  encircled  in  the  arms  of  glory : 

"  '  Peace  to  the  patriot's  shade — let  no  rude  blast 
Disturb  the  willow  that  nods  o'er  his  tomb ; 
Let  orphan  tears  bedew  his  sacred  urn, 
And  fame's  loud  trump  proclaim  the  hero's  name, 
r  w  as  the  circuit  of  the  spheres  extends  1 ' 

"  But,  haughty  Albion,  thy  reign  shall  soon  be  over.  Thou 
shalt  triumph  no  longer ;  thine  empire  already  reels  and  tot- 
ters ;  thy  laurel  even  now  begins  to  wither  and  thy  fame  de- 
cay. Thou  hast,  at  length,  roused  the  indignation  of  an  insulted 
people ;  thine  oppressions  they  deem  no  longer  tolerable. 

"The  4th  day  of  July,  1776,  has  now  arrived,  and  America, 
manfully  " — the  young  orator  does  not  now  regard  America 
personified  a  female — "  manfully  springing  from  the  torturing 
fangs  of  the  British  lion,  now  rises  majestic  in  the  pride  of  her 
sovereignty" — now  he  does — "  arid  bids  her  Eagle  elevate  his 
wings! 

"  The  solemn  Declaration  of  Independence  is  now  pronounced, 


ORATION    CONTINUED.  69 

amidst  crowds  of  admiring  citizens,  by  the  supreme  council  of 
the  nation,  and  received  with  the  unbounded  plaudits  of  a  grate- 
ful people !  That  was  the  hour  when  heroism  was  proved — 
when  the  souls  of  men  were  tried ! 

"It  was  then,  ye  venerable  patriots" — he  here  addresses  the 
revolutionary  soldiers  present — "  it  was  then  you  lifted  the  in- 
dignant arm,  and  unitedly  swore  to  be  free  !  Despising  such 
toys  as  subjugated  empires,  you  then  knew  no  middle  fortune 
between  liberty  and  death ! 

"  Firmly  relying  on  the  protection  of  Heaven,  unwarped  in  the 
resolution  you  had  taken,  you  then,  undaunted,  met,  engaged, 
defeated  the  gigantic  power  of  Britain,  and  rose  triumphant 
over  the  aggressions  of  your  enemies ! 

"  Trenton,  Princeton,  Bennington  and  Saratoga  were  the  suc- 
cessive theatres  of  your  victories,  and  the  utmost  bounds  of 
creation  are  the  limits  of  your  fame  !  The  sacred  fire  of  free- 
dom, then  enkindled  in  your  breasts,  shall  be  perpetuated 
through  the  long  descent  of  future  ages,  and  burn,  with  undi- 
minished  fervor,  in  the  bosom  of  millions  yet  unborn ! 

"  Finally,  to  close  the  sanguinary  conflict,  to  grant  America 
the  blessings  of  an  honorable  peace,  and  clothe  her  heroes  with 
laurels,  Cornwallis,  at  whose  feet  the  kings  and  princes  of  Asia 
have  since  thrown  their  diadems,  was  compelled  to  submit  to 
the  sword  of  Washington  ! " 

The  faults  of  this  portion  of  the  address,  in  point  of  style, 
are  certainly  very  numerous;  but  the  most  critical  reader  will 
see  the  most  clearly  its  intrinsic  excellencies.  The  faults  are 
not  those  of  a  weak  mind,  but  of  a  mind  of  powerful  and  in- 
dependent thought.  The  thoughts,  in  fact,  are,  or  rather  were 
then,  quite  original  and  apposite  to  the  occasion ;  but  the  ex- 
pression, like  that  of  all  young  writers,  is  rendered  less  forcible 
by  a  boyish  attempt  at  too  great  strength. 

The  second  division  of  the  discourse,  which  introduces  the 
subject  of  our  national  polity,  a  topic,  which,  in  the  introd  c- 


70  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

tion,  the  aathor  had  modestly  declined,  is  characterized  by  a 
more  sober  style  of  thinking  and  a  less  bombastic  diction, 
though  the  general  tenor  of  it  is  still  too  dazzling  and  senti- 
mental :  "  The  great  drama  is  now  completed ;  our  Indepen- 
dence is  now  acknowledged ;  and  the  hopes  of  our  enemies  are 
blasted  forever.  Columbia  is  now  seated  in  the  Forum  of  na- 
tions; and  the  empires  of  the  world  are  amazed  at  the  bright 
effulgence  of  her  glory. 

"Thus,  friends  and  citizens,  did  the  kind  hand  of  overruling 
Providence  conduct  us,  through  toils,  fatigues  and  dangers,  to 
Independence  and  Peace.  If  piety  be  the  rational  exercise  of 
the  human  soul,  if  religion  be  not  a  chimera,  and  if  the  vestiges 
of  heavenly  assistance  are  clearly  traced  in  those  events  which 
mark  the  annals  of  our  Nation,  it  becomes  us,  on  this  day,  in 
consideration  of  the  great  things  which  have  been  done  for  us, 
to  render  the  tribute  of  unfeigned  thanks  to  that  God,  who  su- 
perintends the  universe,  and  holds  aloft  the  scale  that  weighs 
the  destinies  of  nations. 

"  The  conclusion  of  the  Revolutionary  war  did  not  accom- 
plish [he  means,  constitute,  or  complete]  the  entire  achievements 
of  our  countrymen.  Their  military  character  was  then,  indeed, 
sufficiently  established  ;  but  the  time  was  coming  which  should 
show  their  political  sagacity  —  their  ability  to  govern  them- 
selves. 

"  No  sooner  was  peace  restored  with  England  (the  first  grand 
article  of  which  was  the  acknowedgment  of  our  Independence) 
than  the  old  system  of  confederation,  dictated,  at  first,  by  ne- 
cessity, and  adopted  for  the  purposes  of  the  moment,  was  found 
inadequate  to  the  government  of  an  extensive  empire.  Under 
a  full  conviction  of  this,  we  then  saw  the  people  of  these  states 
engaged  in  a  transaction  which  is  undoubtedly  the  greatest  ap- 
proximation towards  human  perfection  the  political  world  ever 
witnessed,  and  which,  perhaps,  will  forever  stand  in  the  history 
of  mankind  without  a  parallel.  A  great  Republic,  composed 


ORATION   CONTINUED.  71 

of  different  states,  whose  interests  in  all  respects  could  not  be 
perfectly  compatible,  then  came  deliberately  forward,  discarded 
one  system  of  government  and  adopted  another,  without  the 
loss  of  one  man's  blood. 

"  There  is  not  a  single  government  now  existing  in  Europe, 
which  is  not  based  in  usurpation,  and  established,  if  established 
at  all,  by  the  sacrifice  of  thousands.  But,  in  the  adoption  of 
our  present  system  of  jurisprudence,  we  see  the  powers  neces- 
sary for  government  voluntarily  flowing  from  the  people,  their 
only  proper  origin,  and  directed  to  the  public  good,  their  only 
proper  object. 

"  With  peculiar  propriety,  we  may  now  felicitate  ourselves 
on  that  happy  form  of  mixed  government  under  which  we  live. 
The  advantages  resulting  to  the  citizens  of  the  Union  are  utterly 
incalculable ;  and  the  day  when  it  was  received  by  a  majority 
of  the  States  shall  stand  on  the  catalogue  of  American  anniver 
saries  second  to  none  but  the  birth-day  of  Independence. 

"  In  consequence  of  the  adoption  of  our  present  system  of 
government,  and  the  virtuous  manner  in  which  it  has  been  ad- 
ministered by  a  Washington  and  an  Adams,  we  are  this  day 
in  the  enjoyment  of  peace,  while  war  devastates  Europe.  We 
can  now  sit  down  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  olive,  while  her 
cities  blaze,  her  streams  run  purple  with  blood,  and  her  fields 
glitter  with  a  forest  of  bayonets.  The  citizens  of  America  can 
this  day  throng  the  temples  of  freedom,  and  renew  their  oaths 
of  fealty  to  independence,  while  Holland,  our  once  sister  Re- 
public, is  erased  from  the  catalogue  of  nations  ;  while  Venice  is 
destroyed,  Italy  ravaged,  and  Switzerland — the  once  happy,  the 
once  united,  the  once  flourishing  Switzerland — lies  bleeding  at 
every  pore ! 

"No  ambitious  foe  dares  now  invade  our  country.  No 
standing  army-  now  endangers  our  liberty.  Our  Commerce, 
though  subject  in  some  degree  to  the  depredations  of  the  bel- 
ligerent powers,  is  extended  from  pole  to  pole ;  our  Navy, 


72  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

though  just  emerging  from  non-existence,  shall  soon  vouch  for 
the  safety  of  our  merchantmen,  and  bear  the  thunder  of  free- 
dom around  the  ball.  Fair  Science,  too,  holds  her  gentle  em- 
pire amongst  us,  and  almost  innumerable  altars  are  raised  to 
her  divinity,  from  Brunswick  to  Florida.  Yale,  Providence, 
and  Harvard,  now  grace  our  land ;  and  Dartmouth,  towering 
majestic  above  the  groves  which  encircle  her,  now  inscribes  her 
glory  on  the  registers  of  fame.  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  those 
oriental  stars  of  literature,  shall  now  be  outshone  by  the  bright 
sun  of  American  science,  which  displays  his  broad  circumfer- 
ence in  uneclipsed  radiance  !  " 

Such  is  the  second  division  of  this  interesting  speech,  and  the 
reader  will  no  doubt  say,  or  be  ready  to  admit,  that,  after  so 
many  very  sober  and  sensible  paragraphs,  so  grandiloquent  and 
turgid  a  termination  is  an  unwished-for  blemish. 

The  orator  now  proceeds  to  pay  a  passing  tribute,  if  not  more 
than  a  passing  tribute,  perhaps  a  premeditated  debt  of  gratitude, 
to  the  heroes  of  the  revolution  :  "  Pleasing,  indeed,  were  it 
here  to  dilate  on  the  future  grandeur  of  America  ;  but  we  for- 
bear, and  pause  for  a  moment  to  drop  the  tear  of  affection  over 
the  graves  of  our  departed  warriors.  Their  names  should  be 
mentioned  on  every  anniversary  of  Independence,  that  the  youth 
of  each  successive  generation  may  learn  not  to  value  life,  when 
held  in  competition  with  their  country's  safety. 

"  Wooster,  Montgomery,  and  Mercer  fell  bravely  in  battle, 
and  their  ashes  are  now  entombed  on  the  fields  that  witnessed 
their  valor.  Let  their  exertions  in  our  country's  cause  be  re- 
membered, while  liberty  has  an  advocate,  and  gratitude  has  a 
place  in  the  human  heart. 

"  Greene,  the  immortal  hero  of  the  Carolinas,  has  since  gone 
down  to  the  grave,  loaded  with  honors,  and  high  in  the  estima 
tion  of  his  countrymen.  The  courageous  Putnam  has  long 
elept  with  Ms  fathers,  and  Sullivan  and  Cilley,  New  Ilamp- 


ORATION    CONTINUED.  73 

shire's  veteran  sons,  are  no  more  remembered  among  the 
living. 

"  With  hearts  penetrated  by  unutterable  grief,  we  are  at 
length  constrained  to  ask,  where  is  our  Washington  ?  where  the 
hero  who  led  us  to  victory  1  where  the  man  who  gave  us  free- 
dom 1  where  is  he,  who  headed  our  feeble  army,  when  destruc- 
tion threatened  us,  who  came  upon  our  enemies  like  the  storms 
of  winter,  and  scattered  them  like  leaves  before  the  Borean 
blast?  Where,  O!  my  country!  is  thy  political  savior? 
Where,  O!  humanity  !  thy  favorite  son? 

"The  solemnity  of  this  assembly,  the  lamentations  of  the 
American  people,  will  answer,  'Alas  !  he  is  now  no  more — the 
mighty  is  fallen  ! ' 

"  Yes,  Americans,  Washington  is  gone !  He  is  now  con- 
signed to  dust,  and  sleeps  in  'dull,  cold  marble!' 

"  The  man  who  never  felt  a  wound  but  when  it  pierced  his 
country — he  who  never  groaned  but  when  freedom  bled — is 
now  forever  silent ! 

"  Wrapped  in  the  shroud  of  death,  the  dark  dominions  of  the 
grave  long  since  received  him,  and  he  rests  in  undisturbed  re- 
pose !  Vain  were  the  attempt  to  express  our  loss — vain  the 
attempt  to  describe  the  feelings  of  our  souls?  Though  months 
have  rolled  away,  since  his  spirit  left  this  terrestrial  orb,  and 
sought  the  shining  worlds  on  high,  yet  the  sad  event  is  still  re- 
membered with  increased  sorrow.  The  hoary-headed  patriot 
of  '76  still  tells  tl.e  mournful  story  to  the  listening  infant,  till  the 
loss  of  his  country  touches  his  heart,  and  patriotism  fires  his 
breast.  The  aged  matron  still  laments  the  loss  of  the  man, 
beneath  whose  banners  her  husband  has  fought,  or  her  son  has 
fallen.  At  the  name  of  Washington,  the  sympathetic  tear  still 
glistens  in  the  eye  of  every  youthful  hero.  Nor  does  the  ten- 
der sign  yet  cease  to  heave  the  fair  bosom  of  Columbia's 
daughters : 


74  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

•Farewell,  O  Washington,  a  long  farewell ! 
Thy  country's  tears  embalm  thy  memory; 
Thy  virtues  challenge  immortality, 
Impressed  on  grateful  hearts,  thy  name  shall  live, 
Till  dissolution's  deluge  drown  tho  world,' " 

Having  paid  his  regards  to  the  dead,  he  now  turns  his  atten 
tion  to  the  living  :  "  Although  we  must  feel  the  keenest  sor 
row,  at  the  demise  of  our  Washington,  yet  we  console  our- 
selves with  the  reflection,  that  his  virtuous  compatriot,  his 
worthy  successor,  the  firm,  the  wise,  the  inflexible  Adams,  still 
survives.  Elevated  by  the  voice  of  his  country  to  the  supreme 
executive  magistracy,  he  constantly  adheres  to  her  essential  in- 
terests, and  with  steady  hand  draws  the  disguising  vail  from 
the  intrigues  of  foreign  enemies,  and  the  plots  of  domestic 
foes- 

"  Having  the  honor  of  America  always  in  view,  never  fear 
ing,  when  wisdom  dictates,  to  stem  the  impetuous  torrent  of 
popular  resentment,  he  stands  amid  the  fluctuations  of  party  and 
the  explosions  of  faction,  unmoved  as  Atlas, 


'•While  storms  and  tempests  thunder  on  its  brow, 
And  oceans  break  their  billows  at  his  feet.'" 


The  external  relations  of  the  United  States,  and  the  "  foreign 
policy"  of  the  orator,  are  next  set  off  with  uncommon  spirit 
"  Yet  all  the  vigilance  of  our  Executive,  and  all  the  wisdom  of 
our  Congress,  have  not  been  sufficient  to  prevent  the  country 
from  being,  in  some  degree,  agitated  by  the  convulsions  of 
Europe.  But  why  shall  every  quarrel  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Atlantic  interest  us  in  its  issue1?  Why  shall  the  rise  or  de- 
pression of  every  party  there  produce  here  a  corresponding  vi- 
bration ]  Was  this  continent  designed  as  a  mere  satellite  to 
the  other?  Has  not  nature  here  wrought  all  her  operations  on 
her  broadest  scale  ?  Where  are  the  Mississippis  and  the  Am 
azons,  the  Alleghanies  and  the  Andes  of  Europe,  As:a  and 


ORATION    CONTINUED.  75 

Africa?  The  natural  superiority  of  America  clearly  indicates 
that  it  was  designed  to  be  inhabited  by  a  nobler  race  of  men, 
possessing  a  superior  form  of  government,  superior  patriotism, 
superior  talents,  and  superior  virtues. 

"  Let  the  nations  of  the  East  vainly  waste  their  strength  in 
destroying  each  other.  Let  them  aspire  at  conquest,  and  con- 
tend  for  dominion,  till  their  continent  is  drenched  in  blood. 
But  let  none,  however  elated  by  victory,  however  proud  of 
triumph,  ever  presume  to  intrude  on  the  neutral  position  as- 
sumed by  our  country." 

The  speaker,  tlipugh  at  that  time  not  an  enemy  to  England, 
allowed  himself  to  tall  into  the  popular  style  of  remark  in  his 
allusion  to  that  country  ;  but  for  France,  it  seems,  then  in  the 
midst  of  her  revolution,  he  had  no  affection.  Both  sides  of  the 
Republic,  in  fact,  the  Directory  and  the  "  Pilgrim  of  Egypt," 
were  alike  worthy  of  his  rebuke  :  "  Britain,  twice  humbled  for 
her  .aggressions,  has  at  length  been  taught  to  respect  us.  But 
France,  once  our  ally,  has  dared  to  insult  us !  She  has  viola- 
ted her  treaty  obligations — she  has  depredated  our  commerce 
—  she  has  abused  our  government,  and  riveted  the  chains  of 
bondage  on  our  unhappy  fellow-citizens!  Not  content  with 
ravaging  and  depopulating  the  fairest  countries  of  Europe ;  not 
yet  satiated  with  the  contortions  of  expiring  republics,  the 
convulsive  agonies  of  subjugated  nations,  and  the  groans  of  her 
own  slaughtered  citizens — she  has  spouted  her  fury  across  the 
Atlantic,  and  the  stars  and  stripes  of  the  United  States  have 
almost  been  attacked  in  our  harbors!  When  we  have  de- 
manded reparation,  she  has  told  us,  'Give  us  your  money  and 
we  will  give  you  peace.'  Mighty  nation  !  Magnanimous  re- 
public !  Let  her  fil  her  coffers  from  those  towns  and  cities 
which  she  has  plundered,  and  grant  peace,  if  she  can,  to  the 
shades  of  those  millions  whose  death  she  has  caused. 

"  But  Columbia  stoops  not  to  tyrants ;  her  spirit  will  never 
cringe  to  France  ;  ne\f.her  a  supercilious,  five-headed  Directory, 
VOL.  i.  D 


76  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

nor  the  Pilgrim  of  Egypt,  will  ever  dictate  terms  to  sovereign 
America.  The  thunder  of  our  cannon  shall  insure  the  perform- 
ance of  our  treaties,  and  fulminate  destruction  on  Frenchmen, 
till  the  ocean  is  crimsoned  with  blood,  and  gorged  with 
pirates ! " 

The  peroration  of  a  discourse,  according  to  the  rhetoricians, 
should  at  least  never  be  feeble,  but  respectably  able  and  even 
dignified,  if  not  strong.  The  college  orator  seemed  to  know 
the  virtue  of  this  rule.  Taking  the  popular  side  of  the  French 
question,  as  it  then  stood,  he  closes  his  performance  with  con- 
siderable emphasis  of  style,  and  doubtless  at  the  top  and  bot- 
tom of  his  then  splendid  voice :  "  It  becomes  MS,  on  whom  the 
defence  of  our  country  will  ere  long  devolve,  this  day  most 
seriously  to  reflect  on  the  duties  incumbent  upon  us.  Our  an- 
cestors bravely  snatched  expiring  liberty  from  the  grasp  of 
Britain,  whose  touch  is  poison.  Shall  we  now  consign  it  to 
France,  whose  embrace  is  death  1  We  have  seen  our  Fathers, 
in  the  days  of  our  country's  trouble,  assume  the  rough  habili- 
ments of  war,  and  seek  the  hostile  field.  Too  full  of  sorrow 
to  speak,  we  have  seen  them  wave  a  last  farewell  to  a  discon- 
solate, a  woe-stung  family.  We  have  seen  them  return,  worn 
down  with  fatigue,  and  scarred  with  wounds ;  or  we  have  seen 
them,  perhaps,  no  more.  For  us  they  fought — for  us  they  bled 
— for  us  they  conquered.  Shall  we,  their  descendants,  now 
basely  disgrace  our  lineage,  and  pusillanimously  disclaim  the 
legacy  bequeathed  to  us  ?  Shall  we  pronounce  the  sad  vale- 
diction to  freedom  and  immortal  liberty  on  the  altars  our 
fathers  have  raised  to  her  1  No !  The  response  of  the  nation 
is,  '  No ! '  Let  it  be  registered  in  the  archives  of  Heaven. 
Ere  the  religion  we  profess,  and  the  privileges  we  enjoy,  are 
sacrificed  at  the  shrine  of  despots  and  demagogues  —  let  the 
sons  of  Europe  be  vassals ;  let  her  hosts  of  nations  be  a  vast 
congregation  of  slaves ;  but  let  us,  who  are  this  day  free,  whose 
hearts  are  yet  unappallnd,  and  whose  right  arms  are  yet  nerved 


LESSONS  FOR  YOUNG  MEN.  77 

for  war,  assemble  before  the  hallowed  temple  of  American 
freedom,  and  swear,  to  the  God  of  our  fathers,  to  preserve  it 
secure,  or  die  at  its  portal ! " 

Such,  then,  is  the  first  oration  of  Daniel  Webster ;  and  it 
will  furnish  a  lesson  of  great  value  to  every  young  man,  who 
will  take  the  pains  to  study  it  carefully,  and  compare  it,  as  to 
style  and  thought,  with  the  orator's  most  able  and  celebrated 
efforts.  To  young  men,  whose  opinion  of  their  own  abilities  is 
raised  too  high,  it  will  clearly  show,  that  even  Webster,  at  their 
age,  could  write  bombast  and  empty  declamation ;  and  that 
they,  unless  more  than  his  equal,  in  the  native  endowments  of 
their  minds,  are  probably  the  authors,  when  they  write  what 
they  and  their  admirers  most  admire,  of  still  more  empty  dec- 
lamation, and  a  yet  more  sonorous  bombast.  To  young  men, 
who  have  a  modest  opinion  of  their  own  talents,  and  who  are 
disposed  to  be  discouraged  by  the  faults  they  witness  in  them- 
selves, this  oration  will  show,  that  the  greatest  orator  of  Amer- 
ica, and  the  greatest  mind  of  the  rge,  could  indite  puerilities 
when  himself  a  boy. 

This  first  effort,  however,  is  not  to  be  disparaged  too  far. 
Without  any  disparagement,  but  left  without  remark  to  make 
its  own  impression,  it  might  induce  a  superficial  reader  to  sup- 
pose, that  the  talents  of  the  college  junior  were  overrated  by 
his  early  friends,  or  that  his  mature  productions  have  reflected 
an  unreal  splendor  upon  the  promise  of  his  youth.  We  are 
inclined,  indeed,  to  glorify  every  peculiarity,  if  not  every  act, 
of  the  unripe  youth,  if  they  are  subsequently  the  peculiari- 
ties and  customary  acts  of  the  great  and  celebrated  man.  Still, 
after  viewing  the  matter  on  both  sides,  it  must  be  acknowl- 
edged, that,  while  the  diction  of  this  performance  is  exceedingly 
faulty,  its  faults  are  those  of  a  very  vigorous  mind  ;  and  that 
the  strength  of  the  thoughts,  regarded  individually,  and  their 
comprehensiveness  token  as  a  whole,  are  clearly  the  attributes 
of  a  person,  whose  life  was  not  to  be  measured  by  its  years. 


78  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES 

If  the  philosophical  reader,  who  wishes  to  study  the  character 
of  the  man  in  the  characteristics  of  the  boy,  will  trace  out  the 
thought  of  the  speech,  and  make  a  sketch  of  its  topics,  he  will 
see  many  proofs,  that  the  elements  of  the  great  orator  existed 
from  the  first.  He  will  see  that  the  general  plan  of  the  oration 
is  very  good,  and  even  skillful ;  that  the  course  of  the  argu- 
ment is  natural  in  itself  and  well  managed  ;  that  the  allusions 
to  history,  as  well  as  those  made  to  passing  events,  indicate  a 
wide-reaching  mind ;  that  that  mind,  indeed,  was  not  customa- 
rily occupied  with  the  trivial  concerns  immediately  about  it, 
but  going  out,  even  then,  to  think  upon,  to  study,  to  compre- 
hend, the  world.  If  Daniel  Webster,  at  any  time  within  the 
last  twenty  years,  ever  saw  this  juvenile  effort,  it  must  have 
made  him  smile ;  for  in  his  present  style,  the  style  of  his  best 
days,  every  weakness  in  his  early  composition  has  become  a 
power,  and  in  the  place  of  nearly  every  blemish  he  has  left  a 
grace. 

During  his  fourth  year  in  college,  he  studied  Intellectual  Phi- 
losophy, Moral  Philosophy,  and  the  Law  of  Nations.  These 
studies  made  a  deep  and  lasting  impression  on  his  mind.  They 
suited  his  taste ;  and  his  masterly  reason  and  penetration  were 
equal  to  their  utmost  demands.  What  an  interesting  specta- 
cle, to  witness  even  in  imagination  Daniel  Webster  sounding 
the  depths  and  measuring  the  heights  and  breadths  of  the  hu- 
man mind  by  entering  into  and  studying  his  own  !  Was  there 
ever  a  mind  more  worthy  of  being  made  the  example,  the  par- 
agon, of  the  general  mind  of  man  ?  Was  there  ever  a  man 
better  able  to  fathom,  and  survey,  and  comprehend  whatever 
is  comprehended  in  the  mind  ?  Plato  and  Aristotle  devoted 
their  lives  to  this  science  of  sciences  ;  and  their  researches  have 
ever  since  been,  to  all  nations,  the  groundwork  of  what  is  known 
in  this  department  of  knowledge ;  but  neither  Aristotle,  with 
his  subtle  logic,  nor  Plato,  of  sublime  and  universal  genius,  was 
oetter  qualified  by  nature  to  go  down  into  the  lowest  depths  of 


STILL  STUDIES  ORATORY.  79 

this  incomj  arably  profound  and  important  study,  and  discover 
in  it  everything  that  can  be  discovered,  understood,  or  known. 
We  have  not  the  proof,  however,  that  young  Webster  under- 
took the  study  with  any  zeal  that  could  promise  to  make  a  phi 
losopher  of  the  highest  grade.  ,  Long  before  he  came  to  it,  he 
had  marked  out  a  course  of  life,  which  called  him  to  other 
studies  more  closely  related  to  the  profession  of  his  choice.  It 
was  for  this  reason,  that,  while  he  was  quite  equal,  if  not  more 
than  equal,  in  metaphysical  pursuits,  to  any  student  ever  con- 
nected with  his  college,  his  preeminence  was  altogether  more 
decided  in  the  department  of  natural  and  international  law. 
Here,  as  in  oratory,  he  had  no  competitor.  By  universal  con 
cession,  he  was  solitary  and  alone.  No  class-mate  pretended 
to  be  his  equal.  Mastering  the  elements  of  moral  science  suf 
ficiently  to  lay  a  broad  foundation  for  this  broadest  and  most 
beautiful  of  the  legal  studies,  and  acquiring  enough  of  the  philos- 
ophy of  mind  to  teach  him  how  to  build,  he  read  the  Law  of 
Nature  and  of  Nations  with  all  possible  diligence,  with  a  con- 
centration of  all  his  faculties,  and  reared  a  superstructure  such 
as  had  never,  in  that  institution,  been  reared  before.  Indeed, 
it  is  questionable  whether  a  mere  student  in  college,  in  this 
country  or  in  any  other,  was  ever  more  thoroughly  read  in  this 
science,  or  understood  its  principles  so  well. 

His  chief  study,  neverthless,  was  still  oratory ;  and  to  this 
end  he  read  history,  poetry,  and  general  literature  with  increas- 
ing appetite  and  success.  Pie  was  constantly  grasping  after 
and  trying  to  understand  the  great  practical  questions  of  the 
day.  He  made  himself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  everything 
pertaining  to  his  country's  annals,  from  the  first  landing  at 
Jamestown  and  Plymouth  to  the  Revolution,  and  from  the 
Revolution  to  his  own  time.  He  looked  with  almost  a  man's 
mind  upon  the  external  relations  of  the  country,  and  compre- 
hended the  bearings  of  other  governments  upon  it,  and  saw  what 
its  own  policy,  as  dictated  by  its  history  and  position,  ought  to 


80  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

be.  He  studied  other  countries,  their  origin  and  progress 
their  relative,  position  in  the  family  of  nations,  their  domestic 
policies  and  external  views,  their  manners,  their  customs,  and 
their  laws.  Not,  indeed,  that  he  pursued  and  mastered  these 
subjects  as  he  did  in  after  life  -f  but  he  began  to  look  in  those 
directions,  and  to  keep  his  mind  upon  such  topics,  as  those  to 
which  he  was  most  inclined ;  and  his  knowledge,  as  well  as  his 
judgment,  in  all  subjects  of  this  nature,  was  far  above  what 
could  have  been  expected  of  a  youth  bnt  a  few  months 
beyond  his  eighteenth  year. 

The  oration,  to  which  some  attention  has  been  given,  had 
raised  him  as  a  speaker  incomparably  above  the  level  of  his 
class-mates ;  and  now,  in  his  senior  year,  he  was  called  upon, 
by  the  unanimous  voice  of  his  class,  and  by  the  general  desire 
of  the  college,  to  come  before  the  public  in  another  perform- 
ance decidedly  more  difficult  of  success.  A  senior,  who  had 
been  a  favorite  in  the  institution  for  some  time,  had  died  ;  a 
very  deep  and  general  sensation  had  been  produced ;  and  an 
orator  was  demanded,  who,  while  he  should  speak  of  the  deceased 
as  a  brother  of  his  own  band,  should  also  have  the  ability,  not 
likely  to  be  possessed  by  a  college  student,  to  rise  to  a  level 
of  the  feeling  caused  by  a  sudden  and  lamented  death.  On 
any  other  occasion,  an  intelligent  and  generous  audience  are  al- 
ways prepared  to  make  every  allowance  for  those  extrava- 
gances of  style,  which  seem  to  be  the  common  characteristic 
of  all  youthful  speakers ;  but  death,  and  particularly  the  death 
of  a  promising  young  man,  just  in  the  primrose  path  of  hope, 
is  too  serious  a  thing  to  admit  of  being  treated  in  a  very  faulty 
manner.  It  is  the  daily  habit  of  students  to  write  exercises 
that  are  exercises  simply  ;  they  write  unreal  declamations  on 
unreal  subjects,  with  a  settled  consciousness,  that  their  hearers 
will  regard  them  barely  as  juvenile  imitations  of  realities ;  and 
they  are  apt  to  form  their  style  of  writing,  and  of  speaking, 
after  an  Ideal,  imaginative,  unreal  standard.  Here,  however, 


DEATH    OF    A    CLASSMATE.  8l 

was  a  real  event,  an  event  of  real  sorrow,  which  had  taken  hold 
of  the  hearts  of  all  interested.  No  pretension,  no  show,  no  im- 
itation, will  now  answer.  No  school-boy  declamation  will  meet 
the  occasion.  What  is  to  be  said  must  be  said  in  earnest,  from 
the  heart,  in  a  natural,  truthful,  real  manner.  Who,  then,  of 
all  the  students  of  that  college,  is  qualified  to  stand  up  before 
a  critical  audience,  sensitive  by  education,  and  saddened  by  so 
sudden  and  so  positive  an  affliction  1  On  whom  was  every  eye 
to  turn  as  the  person  most  fit,  perhaps  as  the  only  person  fit, 
for  the  difficult  and  melancholy  duty  ?  There  can  be  but  one 
answer.  The  choice  must  fall,  as  it  did  fall,  on  Daniel  Web- 
ster ;  and,  according  to  the  traditions  still  existing,  the  eulogy 
pronounced  by  him,  at  this  time,  was  far  beyond  the  expecta- 
tions of  those,  who  had  heard  him  frequently  on  other  subjects. 
He  seemed  to  have  completely  thrown  off  the  boy  and  put  on 
the  man.  He  entered,  with  all  his  soul,  into  the  reality  of  the 
general  sorrow.  No  ambitious  soaring,  no  reaching  after  far- 
fetched thoughts,  no  extravagance  of  expression,  none  of  his 
ordinary  grandiloquence,  appeared  to  have  been  left  upon  him, 
or  about  him.  With  the  simplicity  of  real  feeling,  and  with 
the  soberness  and  pathos  of  actual  life,  he  proceeded  directly  to 
his  mournful  task,  and  spoke  with  the  fervor  and  eloquence  of 
a  master.  His  success  was  unbounded.  During  the  delivery, 
the  fall  of  a  pin  could  have  been  heard  at  any  moment ;  a 
dense  audience  were  carried  entirely  away  and  kept  spell- 
bound by  the  magic  of  his  voice  and  manner  ;  and  when  he  sat 
down,  he  left  a  thousand  people  weeping  real  tears  over  a 
heart-felt  sorrow.  It  is  reported,  that  there  was  not  a  dry  eye 
In  all  the  vast  congregation,  which  the  event  and  the  fame 
of  the  orator  had  brought  together.  It  is  also  said,  on  good 
authority,  that,  for  years  after  he  left  college,  parts  of  tliis 
eulogy  were  frequently  spoken  on  the  stage  for  declamation, 
and  seldom  without  drawing  tears. 

A  few  months  more,  and  the  time  arrived,  the  period  of  thfe 


82  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

greatest  interest  and  moment,  when  the  student  was  to  leave 
the  classic  halls  of  his  college,  and  try  liis  fortunes  in  the  world. 
Twenty-eight  young  men,  who  had  studied  and  recited  with 
him  daily  for  four  years,  were  to  go  out  with  him.  It  is  natu- 
ral that  the  reader  should  wish  to  know  who  those  twenty-eight 
young  men  were,  as,  by  looking  at  the  list,  it  may  be  seen 
how  nearly  the  most  distinguished  member  of  the  class  was 
approached,  in  after  life,  by  any  other  of  the  number.  The 
list  is,  of  course,  still  preserved  on  the  books  of  the  institution  ; 
and  it  is  here  presented  as  it  has  been  given  by  the  college  to 
the  public :  "  Alpheus  Baker,  James  Henry  Bingham,  Lem- 
uel Bliss,  Daniel  Campbell,  John  Dutton,  William  Farrar, 
Habyah  Weld  Fuller,  Charles  Gilbert,  Elisha  Hotchkiss,  Ab- 
ner  Howe,  Ebenezer  Jones,  David  Jewett,  Joseph  Kimball, 
Sanford  Kingsbury,  Aaron  Loveland,  Simeon  Lyman,  Thomas 
Abbott  Merrill,  Josiah  Noyes,  John  Nye,  Daniel  Parker,  Na- 
thaniel Shattuck,  Elisha  Smith,  William  Coit  Smith,  Asahel 
Stone,  Matthew  Taylor,  Caleb  Jewett  Tenney,  Samuel  Upham, 
and  Jabez  B.  Whitaker. 

These  were  his  class-mates.  All  these  pursued  the  same 
studies,  under  the  same  teachers,  in  the  same  college.  Around 
each  of  them,  and  all  of  them,  were  the  hopes  of  parents  and 
professors ;  each  and  all  of  them  engaged  an  interest,  a  feeling, 
that  always  accompanies  young  men.  at  school,  and  goes  out 
predicting  their  future  eminence  before  they  have  left  the  walls 
of  the  institution ;  each  and  all  of  them  gave  to  their  friends, 
and  to  those  who  knew  them  at  home,  different  degrees  of 
hope,  but  in  every  case  sufficient  to  make  them  prominent  in 
the  places  where  tl  eir  parents  and  friends  resided.  But,  with 
one  or  two  exceptions,  which  of  their  names,  would  have  been 
known  at  this  day,  had  they  not  been  called  out  by  the  unequaled 
greatness,  by  the  unbounded  celebrity,  by  the  universal  fame  of 
him,  who  was  known  to  them  simply  as  their  class-mate,  Daniel 
Webster  ? 


COMMENCEMENT    ORATIONS.  83 

On  commencement  day,  Daniel  Webster,  strangely  devia- 
ting from  his  customary  topics,  pronounced  an  oration  con- 
nected with  natural  science.  The  only  reliable  notice  of  this 
performance,  now  extant,  is  contained  in  a  memoir  made  by 
Prof.  Alexander,  of  Princeton,  of  a  journey  he  took  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1801,  through  portions  of  New  England.  He  visited 
Dartmouth ;  and  on  his  way  there,  he  fell  in  with  the  father 
of  the  under-graduate  :  "  In  passing  from  Massachusetts  ovur 
the  mountains  of  New  Hampshire,  I  lodged  within  a  few  rods 
of  the  house  of  a  farmer,  the  father  of  the  Hon.  Daniel  Web- 
ster. The  old  gentleman  came  over  to  the  tavern  in  the  morn- 
ing and  chatted  for  half  an  hour.  Among  other  things,  he  said 
that  he  had  a  son  at  Dartmouth,  who  was  about  to  take  his 
bachelor's  degree.  The  father  was  large  in  frame,  high-breasted 
and  broad-shouldered,  and,  like  his  son,  had  heavy  eyebrows. 
He  was  an  affable  man,  of  sound  sense  and  considerable  infor- 
mation, and  expressed  a  wish  that  I  might  be  acquainted  with 
his  son,  of  whom,  it  was  easy  to  see,  that  he  was  proud." 
Wrho  could  blame  him  ? 

The  speech  is  alluded  to,  by  the  venerable  Professor,  in  the 
briefest  manner  :  "  At  the  Dartmouth  Commencement,  Gen. 
Eaton,  of  eccentric  memory,  was  the  marshal  of  the  day,  and 
was  unceasing  in  busying  himself  about  the  order  of  the  pro- 
cession to  the  church,  giving  to  each  graduate,  of  every  college, 
the  place  due  to  his  seniority.  Among  the  speakers  was  young 
Daniel  Webster.  Little  dreaming  of  his  future  career  in  law, 
eloquence,  and  statesmanship,  he  pronounced  a  discourse  on  the 
recent  discoveries  in  chemistry,  especially  those  of  Lavoisier, 
then  newly  made  public." 

It  is  not  so  certain  what  was  the  character  of  the  young  man's 
dreams,  notwithstanding  this  singular  selection  of  a  subject. 
He  knew,  he  must  have  known,  by  his  previous  success  in 
speaking,  and  by  what  his  heart  told  him,  that  he  was  to  be  an 
orator,  and  that  oratory  was  to  be  to  him  the  art  of  arts,  the 
VOL.  i.  D*  « 


84  \VEB8TER    AND    JUS    MASTER-PIECES. 

great  study  and  business  of  his  life,  his  highway  to  honor.  But 
he  shrunk,  as  when  a  school-boy  at  Exeter,  from  the  first  great 
occasion,  where  he  was  to  prove,  or  should  have  proved,  the 
nature  and  grandeur  of  his  talent. 

If  this  is  not  the  solution  of  the  question,  it  may  be  found  in 
the  fact,  that,  at  the  same  commencement,  he  had  had  another 
duty  to  perform,  which  had  given  him  a  better  scope  for  ex- 
erting himself  in  his  great  vocation.  The  most  numerous  and 
creditable  society  of  the  institution,  styled  "The  United  Fra- 
ternity," had  chosen  him  as  its  orator.  He  had  addressed  them 
on  the  day  previous  to  commencement.  This  speech,  judged 
from  its  title  and  the  slight  notices  of  it  now  extant,  not  only 
coincided  with  the  known  predilections  oiMiis  genius,  but  entirely 
confirmed  the  universal  judgment  of  its  originality  and  power. 
It  was  on  "The  Influence  of  Opinion;"  and  it  is  yet  spoken 
of,  by  aged  persons  in  the  neighborhood  of  Dartmouth,  who 
were  so  fortunate  as  to  hear  it,  as  a  performance  quite  signifi- 
cant of  his  coining  fame.  Who  can  tell,  that  his  celebrated 
allusion  to  the  same  topic,  in  his  speech  on  the  Greek  Revolu- 
tion, was  not  the  mature  expression  of  the  thought  here  first 
conceived  ?  It  was  a  remark  of  Seneca,  that  "  youth  must  pre- 
pare what  age  must  use;"  and  Burke  has  somewhere  said,  that 
his  "  acts  as  a  man  were  the  working  out  of  his  thoughts  as  a 
boy."  Both  Seneca  and  Burke  are  sustained  by  the  common 
experience  of  great  men  ;  and  it  is  a  natural  and  interesting  in- 
ference that  the  patriotic  eloquence  of  1823  was  but  a  repro- 
duction, so  far  as  this  topic  goes,  of  the  best  thoughts  of  an 
earlier  day.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  press  of  that  day  still  re- 
ports, that  "  a  numerous  audience  manifested  a  high  degree  of 
satisfaction  at  the  genius  displayed,"  and  that  the  address  was 
characterized  by  that  "  elegance  of  composition  and  propriety 
of  delivery,"  for  which,  while  yet  a  youth,  he  liad  become  dis- 
tinguished. 

Mr.  Webst  er  was  once  asked,  by  a  particular  friend,  respecting 


RECEIVES    HIS    DEGREE.  85 

his  personal  appearance  about  the  time  of  his  leaving  college. 
"  Long,  slender,  pale,  and  all  eyes,"  was  his  answer  ;  "  indeed," 
he  added,  "I  went  by  the  name  of  'All-Eyes'  the  country 
round."  A  lady,  now  living  near  Hanover,  gives  a  fuller  de- 
scription of  his  general  aspect  at  this  time.  According  to  her 
recollection,  he  was  "  slender,  and  evidently  had  a  feeble  con- 
stitution. He  was  a  brunette  in  complexion ;  his  hair  was  as 
black  as  jet ;  and  when  it  was  turned  back,  there  was  displayed 
a  forehead  that  always  excited  admiration.  His  dark  eyes 
shone  with  extraordinary  brilliancy ;  and  when  engaged  in 
agreeable  or  amusing  conversation,  he  wore  a  smile  that  was 
bewitching,  and  showed  teeth  as  white  as  pearls." 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  26th  day  of  August,  1801,  in  the 
Congregational  Meeting-House,  of  the  town  of  Hanover,  New 
Hampshire,  Daniel  Webster  received  at  the  hands  of  the  Fac- 
ulty of  Dartmouth  College,  and  by  vote  of  the  Board  of  Trus- 
tees of  the  institution,  his  diploma  of  graduation,  which  con- 
ferred upon  him  his  first  honorary  title.  He  is  now  no  longer 
merely  Daniel  Webster.  He  is  no  longer  to  be  known  as  the 
son  of  Colonel  Ebenezer  Webster,  of  Salisbury,  a  revolution- 
ary officer,  and  a  judge  of  some  notoriety.  He  is  now  Daniel 
Webster,  A.  B.,  a  graduate  of  a  learned  university,  carrying 
with  him  the  honors  of  his  college.  How  many  a  youth  has 
toiled  his  ten  years  to  attain  this  title  to  distinction !  How 
many  have  valued  it  as  more  to  them  than  health,  or  fortune, 
or  even  friends  and  kindred !  How  many  have  periled  life 
and  every  earthly  comfort,  to  obtain  it ;  and  when  obtained, 
how  have  they  clung  to  it  as  the  richest  and  most  enviable  of 
their  possessions !  Would  not  so  ardent  a  young  man,  one 
evidently  so  ambitious,  so  aspiring,  as  Daniel  Webster,  put  an 
equally  high  value  on  it  1  It  was  for  this,  was  it  not,  that  he 
had  studied,  had  sacrificed,  had  labored  with  his  hands,  had 
taken  the  hard  earnings  of  his  father,  had  been  buoyed  up  by 
the  prayers  and  approbation  of  his  mother,  and  liad  spent  the 


86  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

brightest  days  of  his  youth  in  retirement  from  the  coveted  en 
joyments  and  pleasures  of  the  young  1  No,  it  was  not  for 
this.  It  was  not  for  a  piece  of  parchment  that  he  had  labored. 
It  was  for  that,  which  the  parchment  but  faintly  represented. 
It  was  for  the  education,  the  discipline,  the  development  of  his 
faculties,  implied  in  the  language  of  the  document ;  and  having 
these,  he  cared  nothing  for  the  document  itself.  Indeed,  he  did 
not  want  it.  lie  was  afraid  of  it.  lie  was  fearful  that  he 
might  rely  too  much  upon  it.  He  resolved  to  rely  solely  on 
himself.  With  this  self-reliance  proudly  working  at  his  heart, 
on  this  memorable  afternoon,  he  enacted  a  scene  peculiarly  ex- 
pressive of  his  character  through  life.  Calling  his  class-mates 
by  particular  invitation,  he  proceeded  to  the  green  in  the  rear 
of  the  college,  and  there  deliberately  tore  into  a  hundred  pieces 
the  honorable  diploma,  which  had  cost  him  the  toil  of  years. 
"  My  industry,"  said  the  remarkable  youth,  "  may  make  me  a 
great  man,  but  this  miserable  parchment  cannot."  Saying 
this,  he  mounts  the  horse  which  his  father  had  sent  to  carry 
him  horn  •>,,  and  enters  the  great  world,  without  a  title,  without 
an  honor,  single-handed  and  alone.  Such  a  young  man>  how- 
ever, is  to  be  heard  from  in  after  days. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

WEBSTER  THE  LAWYER. 

ON  returning  home,  the  graduate  of  Dartmouth  immediately 
entered  his  name,  as  a  law  student,  with  Thomas  W.  Thomp- 
son, in  whose  office,  when  a  bare-footed  boy,  he  had  s«t  to 
tell  visitors  where  they  might  find  his  employer,  when  he  hap- 
pened to  be  absent. 

Having,  thus  far,  given  some  account  of  the  persons  who 
have  acted  parts  in  the  education  of  Daniel  Webster,  that  the 
thoughtful  reader  may  see  all  the  influences  exerted  upon  him, 
while  his  character  was  being  formed,  it  will  be  useful,  in  the 
same  way,  to  say  something  of  him  who  introduced  the  young 
man  to  his  knowledge  of  the  law.  Mr.  Thompson  was  a  na- 
tive of  Boston,  Massachusetts,  a  son  of  a  Deacon  Thompson,  an 
Englishman.  His  mother  was  a  Scotch  woman.  Removing 
to  Newburyport,  when  the  son  was  yet  a  lad,  the  father  put 
him  under  the  care  of  Samuel  Moody  to  be  fitted  for  college. 
Soon  after,  he  entered  Cambridge  and  graduated  with  high 
honor,  perhaps  the  highest  honor,  in  1786.  From  this  time, 
for  several  years,  his  fortunes  were  quite  checkered.  Entering 
the  army,  as  an  aid  to  General  Lincoln,  in  the  celebrated 
"Shay's  Rebellion,"  he  served  to  the  close  of  the  campaign  with 
great  credit.  He  then  studied  theology,  intending  to  be  a  cler- 
gyman ;  but,  on  being  appoinied  tutor  at  Cambridge,  on  ac- 
count of  his  rare  attainments  and  polite  behavior,  he  reentered 
the  walls  of  the  university.  Subsequently,  he  studied  law  at 
Newburyport  under  Theophilus  Parsons,  who  was  styled  the 


88  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

Giant  of  the  Law;  and  upon  completing  his  studies,  he  opened 
an  office  near  the  residence  of  Colonel  Webster,  with  whom 
he  boarded.  He  at  once  had  a  lucrative  practice,  purchased 
property,  married,  and  settled  down  for  life.  By  diligent  at 
tention  to  business,  he  soon  acquired  a  handsome  fortune,  an 
extensive  reputation  as  a  lawyer,  no  little  fame  as  a  state  poli- 
tician, and  finally  a  seat  in  congress.  In  every  post,  as  well  as 
at  home,  he  was  remarkable  for  his  industry,  his  acquirements, 
his  kindness  of  heart,  the  general  suavity  of  his  manners,  a  sort 
of  native  eloquence  in  speech  and  conversation,  and  a  polite  re- 
gard for  the  feelings  of  others,  which  made  him  a  general  favor- 
ite. He  died  in  1819,  in  consequence  of  exposures  endured 
in  escaping  from  the  ill-fated  steamer,  Phoenix,  which  was 
burnt  to  the  water's  edge  at  midnight.  Such  was  the  man 
with  whom  Daniel  Webster  first  undertook  the  study  of  his 
profession. 

The  young  student,  however,  was  too  poor  to  remain  here 
long  in  quiet ;  and  he  wished,  also,  to  earn  money  with  which 
to  aid  his  brother  Ezekiel,  who  was  still  in  college.  Just  at 
this  time,  through  the  influence  of  a  personal  friend,  he  was 
called  to  take  charge  of  an  academy  at  Fryeburg,  in  the  State 
of  Maine,  where  he  spent  nine  months,  which  must  be  accounted 
as  among  the  most  interesting  and  important  of  his  life.  The 
most  reliable  statement  of  this  part  of  his  personal  history  has 
been  given  to  the  public  by  G.  B.  Bradley,  Esq.,  now  a  resi- 
dent of  Fryeburg ;  and  the  reader  will  be  ready  to  enter 
heartily  into  the  enthusiasm  with  which  he  writes.  The  occa- 
sion of  forming  a  connection  with  the  school  is  very  correctly 
stated :  "  Mr.  Webster's  connection  with  the  academy  com- 
menced in  January,  1802,  and  terminated  in  August  of  the 
same  year.  The  circumstances  that  directed  his  course  to 
Fryeburg,  arose  from  an  early  intimacy  with  the  family  of 
Hon.  John  Bradley,  of  Concord,  New  Hampshire,  whose  two 
oldest  f*ons,  Robert  and  Samuel  A.,  were  then  residing  at  Frye 


TEACHES    AN    ACADEMY.  89 

burg.  Mr.  Webster  was  graduated  at  Dartmouth  College  in 
1801  ;  his  father  had  assisted  him  through  his  college  course 
with  considerable  sacrifice  and  personal  embarrassment,  and  at 
its  close,  he  looked  about  for  some  employment  that  would  en- 
able him  to  pay  the  debts  contracted  in  his  behalf.  Advised 
by  his  friend,  Samuel  A.  Bradley,  who  had  received  his  degree 
at  the  same  college  two  years  earlier,  and  who  was  then  about 
commencing  the  practice  of  law  at  Fryeburg,  he  applied  for  the 
post  of  instructor  in  the  academy,  and  was  appointed.  Mr. 
Bradley  afterward  introduced  Mr.  Webster  to  Hon.  Christo- 
pher Gore,  of  Boston,  as  a  student  of  law,  who  subsequently 
told  him  that  he  had  brought  him  a  very  remarkable  young 
man." 

Mr.  Webster's  first  entrance  into  Fryeburg  is  given  us  by 
this  writer,  in  nearly  the  words  which  the  statesman,  in  re- 
cently referring  to  it,  employed  himself:  *'  In  a  late  interview 
with  Mr.  Robert  Bradley,  Mr.  Webster,  to  show  the  minute- 
ness of  his  recollection,  recalled  to  his  mind  an  incident  con- 
nected with  his  first  arrival  at  Fryeburg.  Said  he,  '  at  that 
time  I  was  a  youth  not  quite  twenty  years  of  age,  with  a  slen 
der  frame  of  less  than  one  houndred  and  twenty  pounds  weight ; 
on  deciding  to  go,  my  father  gave  me  rather  an  ordinary  horse, 
and  after  making  the  journey  from  Salisbury,  upon  his  back,  I 
was  to  dispose  of  him  to  the  best  of  my  judgment,  for  my  own 
benefit.  Immediately  on  my  arrival,  I  called  upon  you,  stating 
that  I  would  sell  the  horse  for  forty  dollars,  and  requesting  your 
aid  in  his  disposal ;  you  replied,  that  he  was  worth  more,  and 
gave  me  an  obligation  for  a  larger  sum,  and  in  a  few  days  suc- 
ceeded in  making  a  sale  for  me  at  the  advanced  price.  I  well 
remember  that  the  purchaser  lived  about  three  miles  from  the 
village,  and  that  his  name  was  James  Walker ;  I  suppose  he 
has  long  since  deceased.'  On  being  told  that  he  was  still  living, 
he  said  with  great  heartiness,  '  please  give  him  my  best  re- 
spects.' " 


90  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

His  connection  "with  this  institution,  if  not  profitable,  was 
honorable.  When  his  time  was  out,  he  not  only  received  his 
Bmall  pay,  which  was  at  the  rate  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
lars per  year,  but  the  marked  respect  of  his  patrons  in  a  vote 
of  thanks  still  left  upon  their  academic  books : 

"SEPTEMBER  1,  1802. 

"  Voted,  That  the  Secretary  return  the  thanks  of  this  Board 
to  Mr.  Daniel  Webster,  for  his  faithful  services  while  Precep- 
tor of  Fryeburg  Academy. 

"WM.  FESSENDEN,  Secretary." 

While  teaching  in  this  academy,  he  ardently  pursued  the 
study  of  the  law.  Borrowing  a  copy  of  Blackstone's  Com- 
mentaries, he  read  them  thoroughly,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
reviewed  several  of  his  favorite  authors.  He  also  read,  during 
these  months,  Cassar,  Sallust,  Cicero,  Virgil,  and  Horace,  ma- 
king himself  still  more  familiar  with  the  splendid  passages, 
which,  afterwards,  he  was  always  so  prepared  to  quote.  These, 
however,  were  not  the  whole  of  his  labors,  while  preceptor  at 
this  school.  He  boarded  at  the  Osgood  House,  the  proprietor 
of  which  was  then  the  Registrar  of  Deeds ;  and,  thus  getting 
the  post  of  assistant,  he  spent  many  of  his  hours  in  writing  out 
those  records,  which  are  still  preserved,  and  which  he  often  re- 
ferred to  as  the  most  laborious  work  of  his  youth.  "  The  ache 
is  not  yet  out  of  my  fingers,"  he  used  to  say,  "  which  so  much 
writing  caused  them." 

When  out  of  school,  and  not  otherwise  employed,  he  used  to 
spend  not  a  little  of  his -rime  on  the  bosom  of  that  beautiful  sheet 
of  water,  called  Lovell's  Pond,  which  lies  about  one  mile 
south  of  the  village.  It  was  at  that  time  full  offish ;  and,  like 
Rousseau,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  getting  into  a  small  boat,  and  ly- 
ing out  upon  the  water,  angling  and  thinking,  or  floating  alor.» 
carelessly,  hour  after  hour,  and  frequently  from  morning  tiT 


MAKES    THE    TOUR    OF    MAINE  91 

night.  Those  hours  were  by  no  means  idle  hours.  They  were 
hours  of  thought ;  and  they  probably  exerted  as  grent  an  in- 
fluence on  his  subsequent  career,  as  any  of  the  time  that  he 
spent  in  the  most  ardent  study  at  his  desk. 

At  the  close  of  his  engagement  at  Fryeburg,  he  was  joined 
by  his  brother  Ezekiel ;  and,  on  horseback,  then  the  most  or- 
dinary mode  of  travel,  they  started  for  the  tour  of  Maine. 
u  Soon  after  the  commencement  of  the  journey,"  says  the  writer 
before  quoted,  "  while  riding  along  on  horseback,  they  saw  a 
bright,  new  horseshoe  lying  in  the  road.  Ezekiel  suggested 
that  it  was  worth  picking  up.  Daniel  thought  it  was  not ;  his 
brother,  however,  dismounted,  and  carefully  wrapping  a  new 
silk  handkerchief  about  the  shoe,  placed  it  in  the  pocket  of  his 
coat.  Some  time  after,  on  searching  for  his  treasure-trove,  he 
only  found  a  sorry  opening  worn  in  the  coat,  through  which 
shoe  and  handkerchief  had  jointly  disappeared." 

No  sooner  was  he  gone,  than  his  remarkable  talents  became, 
for  a  time,  the  topic  of  general  conversation ;  and  more  than 
one  person  predicted  his  future  eminence :  "  While  at  Frye- 
burg," says  Mr.  Bradley,  "  he  delivered  an  oration  before  the 
citizens  on  the  fourth  of  July,  and  although  still  in  his  minority 
(if  such  ever  was  the  fact)  he  exhibited  in  a  marked  degree  the 
elements  of  his  future  greatness.  Mr.  Ketchum,  of  New  York, 
in  a  late  speech  says :  '  In  early  life,  when  Daniel  Webster  first 
came  from  college,  when  he  first  assumed  the  post  of  principal 
of  an  academy  in  one  of  the  interior  towns  of  New  England, 
it  was  predicted  by  an  intelligent  citizen  of  that  place  that  he 
would  be  the  first  man  in  the  country.'  Reference  is  here 
made  to  Rev.  Dr.  N.  Porter,  then  one  of  the  trustees  of  the 
academy.  At  about  the  same  time  two  citizens  of  Fryeburg 
were  discoursing  on  the  future  promise  of  the  youthful  orator, 
when  one  remarked  that  he  should  not  be  surprised  if,  before 
his  death,  he  should  be  chosen  governor  of  New  Hampshire. 
The  other  replied  that  he  would  fill  the  office  before  five  years, 


92  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

if  the  people  could  appreciate  him,  but  that  so  far  as  Mr.  Web 
ster  was  concerned,  it  would  be  too  small  business  for  him." 

Mr.  Webster  never  forgot  his  friends ;  and  he  was  seldom 
forgotten  by  them.  To  the  latest  day  of  his  life,  he  remem- 
bered and  mentioned  this  beginning  of  his  long  career,  his  con- 
nection with  the  academy  at  Fryeburg ;  and  the  citizens  of  that 
place,  as  well  as  the  surrounding  country,  still  hold  him  dear  in 
their  recollection,  as  in  that  admiration  which  all  men  bestowed 
upon  him  :  "  As  an  instructor,"  says  Mr.  Bradley,  "  he  is  still 
held  in  affectionate  and  grateful  remembrance  by  those  who 
were  so  fortunate  as  to  be  his  pupils ;  and  in  the  social  circle, 
the  recollections  of  his  vivacity,  as  well  as  dignity  and  refine 
ment,  are  still  fresh  and  enduring.  Nor  did  Mr.  Webster  for 
get  the  scene  of  his  first  appearance  on  the  stage  of  active  life. 
Often,  when  relating  this  passage  in  his  history,  did  he  '  recur 
to  pleasing  recollections,  and  indulge  in  refreshing  remembrance 
of  the  past ' — and  to  the  close  of  life,  he  preserved  a  strong 
regard  for  the  friends  he  there  found.  To  one  of  them  he  thus 
concludes  a  letter  which  I  now  have  before  me :  '  I  am  happy 
to  hear  of  your  establishment,  and  the  growth  of  your  fame. 
You  have  a  little  world  around  you ;  fill  it  with  good  deeds, 
and  you  will  fill  it  with  your  own  glory.  Youi's,  in  love,  D. 
W.'  To  another,  a  short  time  since,  he  sent  a  likeness  of  him- 
self, as  a  '  token  of  early  and  long-continued  friendship.'  I 
have,  also,  in  my  possession,  a  letter  of  recent  date,  expressing 
his  readiness  to  forward  a  public  enterprise,  in  which  some  of 
the  citizens  of  Fryeburg  were  engaged.  So  late  as  September, 
1851,  on  being  informed  that  the  trustees  were  struggling  to 
rebuild  the  academy,  although  with  sadly  diminished  resources, 
he  proposed,  if  his  life  was  spai'ed,  and  his  engagements  would 
permit,  to  be  present  at  its  dedication,  and  to  deliver  the  open- 
ing address.  While  in  common  with  his  afflicted  family, 
and,  we  might  add,  the  whole  family  of  civilized  man,  \re 
profoundly  and  sincerely  mourn  that  the  grave  has  closed  over 


RE-ENTERS   MR.  THOMPSON'S    OFFICE.  93 

the  great  man  of  the  nineteenth  century,  there  is  also  mingled 
with  our  grief  a  selfish  sorrow  that  his  strong  arm  could  not 
hdve  been  spared  to  assist  in  placing  on  a  firm  foundation  the 
institution  that  was  so  proud  to  acknowledge  his  fostering  care 
in  early  youth." 

There  is  a  fact  connected  with  Mr.  Webster's  residence  at 
Fryeburg,  of  a  nature  to  encourage  the  young  and  aspiring,  who 
have  poverty  to  contend  with,  while  it  will  convey  instruction 
to  all  readers.  On  the  books  of  the  academy  there  is  still  this 
record: 

"Voted,  That  the  thanks  of  this  Board  be  presented  to 
Preceptor  Webster  for  his  services  this  day,  and  that  he 
would  accept  five  dollars  as  a  small  acknowledgement  of  their 
sense  of  his  services  this  day  performed. 

"  WILLIAM  FESSENDEN,  Secretary." 

This  was  m  1802  ;  and  it  is  essential  to  state,  that  the  ser 
vice  here  acknowledged,  as  the  writer  was  once  told  by  the  late 
Hon.  Judah  Dana,  of  Fryeburg,  a  trustee  of  the  academy  at 
the  time,  consisted  of  extra  exertions  at  the  annual  exhibition 
of  the  school,  including  a  very  fine  address  to  the  citizens  and 
students.  All  this,  then,  was  performed  by  Daniel  Webster 
when  unknown  to  the  great  world,  for  the  sum  of  five  dollars. 
At  a  later  period,  when  known  and  appreciated  ajt  his  true 
value,  a  similar  amount  of  labor,  perhaps  not  much  better  done, 
would  have  brought,  as  it  has  often  brought,  thousands  to  his 
purse.  Such,  youthful  reader,  is  the  worth  of  a  reputation ! 

After  making  a  brief  tour  through  the  most  picturesque  and 
important  parts  of  Maine,  whose  scenery  can  scarcely  be  sur- 
passed even  in  this  country,  Mr.  Webster  returned  to  Salis- 
bury, and  reentered  the  law-office  of  Mr.  Thompson.  Having 
paid  his  bo.ird,  and  his  other  expenses,  by  his  labors  in  the  re- 
gistrar's office,  he  was  now  possessed  of  mora  money  than  he 


94  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

had  ever  had  before  at  one  time.  It  was  all  his  ov/n.  lie  had 
earr.ed  it  himself,  and  it  gave  him  a  feeling  of  self-ieliance. 
which  he  had  never  felt  before.  But  he  did  not  keep  his 
money.  Ezekiel  was  still  at  school ;  and,  after  having  -paid 
the  expenses  of  both,  on  their  joint  trip,  he  divided  the  re- 
mainder with  his  brother,  when  he  was  about  starting  off  again 
for  college.  He  had  enough  k>ft,  however,  for  all  his  own  im- 
mediate purposes.  He  boarded  at  home,  and  pursued  hia 
studies  with  Mr.  Thompson  nearly  without  cost. 

He  remained  with  Mr.  Thompson  about  eighteen  months, 
during  which  time  he  probably  acquired  more  legal  learning, 
than  most  young  men  would  have  acquired  in  three  years.  He 
was  an  exceedingly  hard  student.  He  was  also  a  judicious 
student.  He  knew  what  to  read,  and  when  to  read,  and  how 
to  read.  In  this  respect,  as  perhaps  in  almost  every  other,  ex- 
cepting the  amount  of  learning  in  the  law,  he  was  even  supe- 
rior to  his  master.  It  was  a  habit  of  Mr.  Thompson  to  put 
into  the  hands  of  his  pupils  the  most  difficult  authors  first,  in- 
tending, as  he  used  to  say,  in  this  way  "  to  break  them  in,"  and 
show  them  what  they  had  to  do.  Mr.  Webster  dissented  from 
this  course.  He  told  his  patron,  that,  instead  of  breaking  his 
pupils  in,  it  was  almost  a  sure  way  to  break  them  down.  The 
teacher  and  scholar  could  not  agree ;  but,  as  in  all  his  future 
career,  the  scholar,  perfectly  convinced  of  his  own  opinion, 
would  take  his  own  way ;  and  his  example,  together  with  Avhat 
he  has  often  said  upon  the  subject,  has  done  much  to  bring  about 
the  reformed  method,  the  more  inductive  method,  of  studying 
the  law,  which  is  now  almost  universally  pursued. 

During  this  residence  in  the  office  of  Mr.  Thompson,  in  ad 
dition  to  the  regular  studies  of  his  course,  he  undertook  to  re- 
view the  most  important  duties  of  the  office,  in  college,  and 
particularly  such  of  them  as  pertained  especially  to  the  law.  He 
read  almost  incessantly,  from  morning  till  night,  every  day 
»or  a  year  and  a  half,  he  raid,  thought,  reflected,  and  thus  fillet 


GOES    TO    BOST>JT.  95 

his  mind  with  those  facts  and  principles,  which  he  was  after- 
wards to  use.  When  the  office  was  crowded  with  clients,  or 
visitors,  01  neighbors,  he  would  sit  by  himself,  silently  perusing 
his  author  and  taking  notes,  as  if  there  were  no  other  persons 
in  the  world,  but  the  reader  and  the  writer  of  the  book.  No 
matter  what  occurred,  no  matter  what  was  said,  unless  he  was 
himself  addressed,  there  he  sat,  his  huge  eyes  fixed  in  deep 
study  upon  the  page,  his  mind  lost  in  its  profound,  intricate, 
all-absorbing  work.  When  thus  engaged,  he  was  an  object  of 
general  observation  to  all  who  visited  the  office  ;  and  a  picture 
of  the  scene,  of  Daniel  Webster  the  law-student  at  his  books, 
would  be  a  picture,  which  any  student  might  well  wish  to  see 
on  canvas,  but  might  far  better  have  imprinted  upon  his  ima- 
gination, his  memory,  or  his  heart. 

After  completing  his  year  and  a  half  with  Mr.  Thompson, 
during  wliich  time  he  had  probably  about  reached  the  level  of 
his  master's  knowledge  in  the  profession,  he  began  to  look 
about  him  for  a  situation  suited  to  his  demands.  He  looked 
all  over  New  Hampshire  to  find  a  man  of  exactly  the  charac- 
ter to  make  him  a  fit  instructor.  There  were  several  then 
there,  whose  abilities,  whose  acquirements,  whose  position,  were 
of  a  very  high  order  ;  but  the  more  he  thought  upon  the  sub- 
ject, and  the  more  he  compared  the  advantages  of  one  man 
and  one  place  with  other  men  and  other  places,  the  more  he 
was  convinced,  that  he  ought  to  find  the  best  place  and  the  best 
man,  not  of  New  Hampshire,  but  of  the  whole  country.  When 
entirely  settled  in  this  conviction,  it  required  no  great  length  of 
time  to  settle  all  that  it  carried  with  it.  Boston,  of  course,  was 
the  place ;  and,  though  there  were  several  lawyers  in  the  capi- 
tal of  New  England  of  nearly  equal  fame,  the  talents  and  learn- 
ing  of  Governor  Gore  marked  him  out  as  the  most  proper  per- 
son for  the  business  now  in  hand.  In  the  month  of  July, 
therefore,  in  the  year  1804,  Mr.  Webster  removed  to  Boston, 
and  began  what  may  be  termed  his  second  course  as  a  law 


9O  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

student,  under  one  of  the  best  masters,  at  the  age  of  twenty 
two. 

In  this  office,  at  an  age  comparatively  mature,  Mr.  Webster 
commenced  a  higher  life,  such  as  he  had  scarcely  dreamed  of  be- 
fore. The  Hon.  Christopher  Gore  was  a  man  of  great  natural 
strength  of  mind,  of  remarkable  versatility  of  talent,  learned  in 
every  department  of  his  profession,  an  able  counselor,  an  elo- 
quent banister,  familiar  with  the  broader  as  with  the  narrower 
fields  of  the  law,  and  a  statesman  of  clear,  positive,  and  rather 
comprehensive  views.  With  all  his  lore,  and  all  his  native 
abilities,  he  was  no  wayward  genius,  but  a  man  of  sound,  sober, 
sterling  common  sense.  Indeed,  in  every  respect,  he  was  truly 
a  great  man.  His  advice  to  Mr.  Webster  was  always  useful ; 
his  instructions  added  daily  to  the  mass  of  the  student's  acqui- 
sitions ;  and  his  conversation  was  always  so  learned,  so  practi- 
cal, so  instructive,  and  yet  so  eloquent,  that  it  was  a  continuous 
lesson,  while  it  never  failed  to  charm. 

Though  endowed  with  that  wonderful  power  of  concentra- 
tion, which  made  him  remarkable  in  the  office  of  Mr.  Thomp- 
son, and  for  which  he  has  been  celebrated  ever  since,  Mr. 
Webster  often  found  the  intercourse  held  between  Governor 
Gore  and  the  great  men  of  the  day,  who  used  to  visit  him, 
more  entertaining  and  more  immediately  instructive  than  his 
books.  Apart,  in  a  corner  by  himself,  he  would  nevertheless  sit 
with  his  eyes  upon  his  author,  but  with  his  mind  upon  the  men, 
who  used  to  visit  his  instructor,  whenever  they  came  in  to  talk ; 
and,  in  this  way,  he  began  to  look  out  upon  the  great  world, 
into  which  he  was  soon  to  enter,  through  the  free  revelations  of 
those  remarkable  characters,  who,  though  a  part  of  that  world, 
still  would  thus  abandon  and  betray  it  for  a  time.  Wrhat  a  flood 
of  light  can  be  thus  thrown,  respecting  all  that  more  intricate 
and  more  important  part  of  life,  not  known  in  books,  upon  the 
mind  of  a  young  man  prepared  and  eager  for  it !  And  there 
never  was  a  mind  better  prepared,  or  more  eager,  more  in 


HIS    STUDIES    WITH    MR.    GORE.  97 

tensely  eager,  for  every  kind  and  degree  of  information,  in  re- 
gard to  men  and  things,  than  that  of  the  young  man,  Daniel 
Webster  ;  and  scarcely  ever  was  such  a  mi  .id  so  thoroughly,  so 
constantly,  furnished  with  what  it  craved.  While  yet  unknown 
himself,  he  thus  made  an  acquaintance',  a  sort  of  daily  and  fa- 
miliar acquaintance,  with  many  of  the  first  characters  of  the 
age.  In  after  life,  as  an  example  of  his  opportunities,  in  this 
regard,  he  used  to  tell  how  he  became  acquainted  with  a  gen- 
tleman, whose  reputation  was  then  wide,  and  whose  name  will 
not  soon  die  :  "  I  remember  one  day,"  says  the  narrator,  "  as 
I  was  alone  in  the  office,  a  man  came  in  and  asked  for  Mr. 
Gore.  Mr.  Gore  was  out ;  and  he  sat  down  to  wait  for  him. 
He  was  dressed  in  plain  gray  clothes.  I  went  on  with  my 
book,  till  he  asked  me  what  I  was  reading,  and,  coming  along 
up  to  the  table,  took  the  book  and  looked  at  it.  '  Roccus?  said 
he,  lde  Navibus  et  Nando.  Well,  I  read  that  book  too  when 
I  was  a  boy ; '  and  proceeded  to  talk  not  only  about  ships  and 
freif/kts,  but  insurance,  prize,  and  other  matters  of  maritime 
law,  ia  a  manner  'to  put  me  to  all  I  knew,'  and  a  good  deal 
more.  The  gray-coated  stranger  turned  out  to  be  Mr.  Rufus 
King." 

From  July,  1804,  to  March,  1805,  Mr.  Webster  remained 
in  the  office  of  Governor  Gore  ;  he  there  read  in  the  higher  de- 
partments of  the  law  altogether ;  he  made  himself  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  common  law,  with  maritime  law,  and  with 
special  pleading,  reading  for  this  latter  purpose  the  old  folio 
edition  of  Saunders.  As  an  exercise  of  his  skill  in  language, 
but  more  espcially  to  impress  facts  and  principles  upon  his 
memory,  he  translated  the  Latin  and  Norman  French  into  good 
English.  What  is  still  more  remarkable,  he  made  a  manu- 
script brief  of  every  case  in  the  book  ;  and  these  briefs  were 
presented  to  his  master  for  inspection,  who,  always  ready 
with  instruction,  would  pour  out  comment  after  cc  mment,  and 
explanation  upon  explanation,  till  everything  was  as  clear  as 


98  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

sunlight.  Tliis,  in  fact,  was  Mr.  Gore's  usual  method  with  his 
pupils.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  him  to  instruct  them  ;  and  his  ex- 
temporaneous discourses,  as  Mr.  Webster  has  said,  were  fre- 
quently as  learned,  and  always  more  eloquent  and  captivating, 
lhan  the  book. 

h  was  in  this  office,  that  Mr.  Webster  first  fully  learned,  or 
dfti  began  to  see  with  the  force  of  a  conviction,  that  the  law  is 
a  historical  science,  and  that  if  the  student  would  understand  it 
thoroughly,  he  must  lay  his  foundation  on  history.  At  that 
time,  Lingard,  Turner,  Hallam,  and  other  similar  though  not 
equal  critics,  had  written  not  a  line  of  their  celebrated  works, 
which  now  lead  the  law-student  directly  and  easily,  along  a 
beaten  path,  to  the  basis  of  his  profession.  The  connection  be- 
tween law  and  history  had  not  then  been  formed ;  but  Mr. 
Webster,  seeing  the  connection,  and  feeling  his  way  along  alone, 
by  daily  reading  of  the  great  historians,  especially  of  Hume, 
made  himself  familiar,  at  last,  with  the  elements  of  his  science. 
The  principles,  which  he  saw  were  established  by  general  con- 
currence and  long  precedent,  he  not  only  learned  and  fixed  hi 
his  memory,  as  most  law  students  try  to  do,  but  traced  them 
back,  from  country  to  country,  and  from  age  to  age,  till  he 
found  their  starting-points  in  time  and  their  origin  as  ideas. 

This,  indeed,  is  what  made  Mr.  Webster  a  lawyer  such  as 
he  undeniably  was.  He  was  a  lawyer,  not  of  facts  barely,  but 
of  reasons,  able  to  go  to  the  bottom  of  everything  belonging  to 
the  law.  It  is  this  ability,  founded  upon  this  practice  of  thorough 
investigation,  that  7iiakes,  or  will  make,  any  man  a  lawyer, 
while  nothing  else  will  do  it ;  and  it  is  remarkable,  that,  of  the 
vast  multitude  of  young  men,  who  make  the  law  their  pro- 
fession, so  few  study  it  in  this  philosophical  and  thorough  man- 
ner. If  every  law-student  in  the  land  would  take  up  the  study 
in  this  way — would  take  a  principle  of  American  law,  (or  ex 
ample,  and  trace  it  through  our  own  history  into  the  history 
of  the  mother  country,  then  back  to  its  introduction  into  the  juris- 


TOUR    TO    ALBANY.  99 

prudence  of  Great  Britain,  then  still  back  to  the  older  practice 
of  the  continental  codes  and  courts,  then  farther  and  farther 
back  to  its  germ  in  the  Roman  laws,  where  its  relations  to  Ro- 
man civilization,  and  possibly  its  birth  in  the  times  of  the  Gre- 
cian lawgivers,  might  be  clearly  seen — then  should  we  have 
lawyers  worthy  of  their  great  profession,  worthy  of  their  coun- 
try, worthy  of  that  admiration  which  many  receive  but  few 
merit.  No  language  can  utter  the  fact  with  due  force,  that,  as 
a  general  rule,  the  law  is  studied,  in  this  country,  very  super- 
ficially. That  science,  which  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  social 
knowledge,  which  is  the  exponent  of  the  civilizations  of  all  peo- 
ple, which  is  the  only  key  to  an  understanding  of  the  world 
that  now  is,  as  well  as  a  certain  index  of  past  and  future  peri- 
ods, and  which  demands  the  best  faculties  fully  developed  by 
the  best  of  discipline,  is  commonly  undertaken  by  raw  youth, 
whose  education  is  very  limited,  whose  ideas  of  their  profession 
are  equally  narrow,  and  whose  highest  ambition  is  gratified  after 
a  brief  course  of  hasty  and  superficial  study.  It  is  for  this 
reason  that  we  are  a  nation  of  pettifoggers.  Every  city,  every 
town,  every  small  village,  swarms  with  these  buzzing  busy- 
bodies.  In  all  the  cities,  and  in  all  the  land,  we  have,  or  rather 
have  had,  occasionally,  a  Hamilton,  a  Pinckney,  a  Clay,  a  Story, 
to  redeem  the  profession  from  utter  insignificance.  It  was  dig- 
nified, noble,  in  fact  sublime,  in  the  hands  of  Daniel  Webster ; 
and  he  prepared  himself  to  elevate  his  calling,  to  the  degree 
here  acknowledged,  by  that  deep  and  thorough  study,  for 
which,  in  the  beginning  of  his  career,  he  is  justly  noted. 

This  severe  labor  of  mind,  however,  began  to  wear  upon  the 
student's  physical  constitution.  Rest  was  prescribed ;  and  to 
rest  he  added  recreation.  In  company  with  a  Mr.  Baldwin,  an 
eccentric  but  very  intelligent  gentleman  of  considerable  wealth 
and  some  position,  he  made  quite  a  tour,  during  the  autumn  of 
1804,  through  various  parts  of  New  England,  and  extended  his 
rambles  finally  as  fki  as  the  Hudson  river.  The  friends  trav- 
VOL.  i.  E  7 


100  WEBSTEFv    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

eled  hi  an  open  carriage,  which  gave  them  a  fine  opportunity 
for  seeing  the  country,  as  well  as  for  that  free  and  familiar  con 
versation,  from  which  they  would  have  been  restricted  in  a 
public  conveyance.  On  reaching  Albany,  they  put  up  at  a 
hotel  at  the  foot  of  State  street,  where  they  remained  a  fort 
night.  Into  what  sort  of  society,  it  is  natural  to  ask,  would 
such  a  man  as  Mr.  Taylor  Baldwin,  unknown  in  those  parts, 
and  an  equally  obscure  law-student,  be  likely  to  find  themselves, 
among  a  wealthy  and  rather  aristocratic  population,  such  as  at 
that  time  inhabited  the  old  Dutch  metropolis?  From  all  we 
know  of  Mr.  Baldwin,  he  was  not  the  man  to  introduce  Daniel 
Webster  into  such  society  as  his  talents  claimed  ,  and  from  all 
we  know  of  Daniel  Webster,  he  was  not  the  person  to  take  up 
with  what  was  positively  below  him.  So,  in  this  dilemma,  he 
is  doomed  to  be  without  society,  or  to  introduce  himself. 
The  latter,  however,  was  no  difficult  thing  for  such  a  young 
man  to  do.  He  had  no  sooner  taken  his  place  at  the  hotel, 
than  his  remarkable  appearance,-his  dignified  and  graceful  man 
ners,  his  easy  and  captivating  conversation,  the  apparently 
boundless  extent  of  his  knowledge  and  information,  marked 
him  as  an  object  of  general  observation.  Instead  of  trying  to 
introduce  himself  to  others,  it  was  the  desire  of  all  to  be  intro- 
duced to  him.  Mr.  Baldwin,  though  a  man  of  years  and  self- 
consequence,  had  to  act  between  the  parties  as  a  sort  of  gentle- 
man usher  to  his  young  friend.  During  the  journey,  the  rela- 
tion between  the  travelers  had  been,  that  Mr.  Webster  was 
traveling  with  Mr.  Baldwin.  Here,  where  neither  was  known, 
Mr.  Baldwin  found  himself  suddenly  transformed  iirto  a  gentle- 
man traveling  with  Mr.  Webster.  The  law-student  was  now  all. 
He  was  soon  known  by  all  the  guests.  Theyr  consisted  of  transient 
boarders  and  citizens, among  whom  were  merchants  and  lawyers. 
They,  learning  the  object  of  Mr.  Webster's  visit,  and  forward 
to  show  him  the  town  and  all  it  contained  worthy  of  his  notice, 
at  once  put  him  into  the  hands  of  the  leading  characters  of  the 


IS    OFFERED    A   CLERKSHIP.  101 

city.  In  this  way,  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  nearly  every 
prominent  citizen.  He  visited  the  Schuylers  at  Schuyler  Place. 
He  was  at  the  house  of  Stephen  Van  Rensselaer,  the  patrooi* 
of  that  day,  and  the  first  man  in  wealth  of  the  whole  region 
of  the  Hudson.  He  saw  the  institutions,  literary,  social  and  re- 
ligious ;  and,  in  the  course  of  his  short  visit  of  fourteen  days, 
he  made  himself  entirely  familiar  with  everything  there  was,  at 
that  time,  in  Albany.  It  was  his  first  attempt  to  enter  into  soci- 
ety ;  and,  unlike  young  men  of  ordinary  abilities,  who  experience 
such  difficulties  in  their  introduction  to  the  world,  he  found 
every  door  and  avenue  wide  open,  with  every  one  within  the 
charmed  circle  beckoning  and  pressing  him  to  enter. 

Such  marked  respect,  such  sudden  popularity,  would  have 
turned  the  head  of  many  a  young  man.  It  was  not  so  with 
Webster.  Without  a  particle  of  pride,  but  with  his  usual 
simplicity  of  manner,  he  received  it  all  as  if  he  thought  that 
nothing  extraordinary,  nothing  not  called  for,  had  happened. 
Then,  when  his  season  of  recreation  was  over,  he  returned  to 
Boston,  to  the  office,  to  his  deep  and  laborious  studies,  as  mo- 
dest, as  deferential,  though  not  quite  as  bashful  a  young  man 
as  when  he  left  them. 

Just  before  he  had  completed  his  course  of  study,  while  still 
in  the  office  with  Governor  Gore,  an  event  occurred  which 
nearly  overturned  the  settled  plans  of  Mr.  Webster,  and  which 
would  have  robbed  the  profession  of  its  greatest  master,  the 
nation  of  its  most  distinguished  statesman,  and  the  world,  in 
almost  every  sense,  of  its  most  illustrious  man.  His  father 
still  remained  a  judge  on  the  New  Hampshire  bench.  He  was 
old  and  infirm,  but  the  respect  of  all  classes  still  sustained  him 
at  his  post.  The  money  he  had  expended,  and  was  still  spend- 
big,  for  the  education  of  his  sons,  had  so  exhausted  his  re- 
sources, that  he  had  been  obliged  "to  increase  the  mortgage  upon 
his  farm.  It  was  the  purpose,  it  had  always  been  the  joint 
promise  of  Ezekicl  ar>  1  Daniel,  at  the  very  first  opportunity 


102  WEBSTER   AND    HIS   MASTER-PIECES. 

after  the  completion  of  their  studies,  to  lift  this  mortgage  and 
set  their  self-sacrificing  and  patient  father  free.  They  had  long 
known,  too,  that,  in  his  age  and  infirmities,  he  could  not 
bear  up  under  the  pressure  of  a  debt,  as  he  had  done  when  well 
and  strong.  They  knew  that  it  preyed  upon  his  spirits ;  that 
he  began  to  indulge  in  disagreeable  forebodings ;  that  he  fre- 
quently mentioned  to  his  wife,  as  well  as  to  them,  the  prospect 
of  his  dying  at  last,  after  all  his  struggles,  a  poor  and  perhaps 
a  needy  man.  Oftentimes,  the  family  had  been  affected  to 
weeping  by  his  distress;  and  the  resolution  had  been  at  such  times 
repeated,  and  redoubled,  by  both  the  boys,  to  hasten  their  work, 
and  press  into  active  employment,  that  they  might  quiet  the 
fears  and  soothe  the  sorrows  of  their  parent,  whom  it  troubled 
them  to  see  thus  disturbed.  Now,  Daniel  was  about  through 
his  course ;  now,  he  felt  the  duty  and  responsibility  resting  on 
him ;  and  now,  as  Providence  would  have  it,  an  opportunity 
occurred,  at  the  nick  of  time,  when  all  these  pious  resolutions 
might  be  redeemed.  At  the  solicitation  of  the  father,  and  by 
the  unanimous  and  free  consent  of  all  concerned,  Daniel  was 
appointed  clerk  of  his  father's  court,  with  a  salary  and  perqui- 
sites amounting  to  the  enviable  sum  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars 
a  year.  This,  in  a  short  time,  would  not  only  pay  off  his  fa- 
ther's debts,  but  soon  bring  in  a  competency  to  himself.  In 
those  days,  in  fact,  this  large  salary  was  not  barely  a  compe- 
tency. It  was  wealth ;  and  Daniel,  with  this  situation,  could 
look  fortune  in  the  eye,  soothe  the  troubled  heart  of  his  good 
old  father,  and  almost  smooth  down  the  wrinkles  of  old  age. 
Young  as  he  was  and  poor  as  he  had  always  been,  he  may 
be  seen,  in  our  imagination,  to  leap  with  sudden  joy  at  the  pros- 
pect so  strangely  and  unexpectedly  opened  to  him. 

Perhaps,  reader,  as  we  see  him  now,  in  fancy,  doing  what 
history  tells  he  actually  did — leaving  the  office  of  his  patron — 
proceeding  directly,  by  the  shortest  and  quickest  route,  to  the 
residence  of  his  father — hastening  into  the  old  homestead,  with- 


DECLINES    THE    OVERTURE.  103 

out  waiting  to  fasten  his  horse,  the  moment  he  has  reached  the 
door — perhaps,  with  the  letter  of  appointment  in  his  hand,  he  is 
going  in  to  fall  down  before  the  aged  sire,  or  to  embrace  him 
in  his  filial  arms,  that  he  may  tell  him  in  person  with  what 
gratitude  he  accepts  the  overture  which  the  court  has  made. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  one  thing  history  has  made  certain.  The 
old  man,  touched  by  the  alacrity  of  the  son,  and  grateful  for 
the-  independence  now  at  last  freely  offered  to  them  both,  burst 
into  tears  the  moment  that  he  saw  Daniel's  face.  His  passion 
could  not  wait  for  ceremony  :  "  I  only  mentioned  it  to  them," 
said  he  in  tearful  triumph,  and  without  a  word  of  introduction — 
"  I  only  mentioned  it  to  them,  and  it  was  no  sooner  said  than 
done ! " 

Daniel  did  not  seem  to  be  as  intemperate  in  his  joy,  or  in 
his  gratitude,  as  the  occasion  appeared  to  warrant.  In  fact,  he 
was  rather  embarrassed  for  a  moment,  but  quickly  recovered. 
The  father  noticed  the  manner  of  the  son,  and  saw  that  all  was 
not  just  right. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Daniel,"  said  Colonel  Webster.  "  I 
know  not  what  to  make  of  your  appearance." 

"  Father,"  said  Daniel,  who  always  knew  exactly  how  to 
say  what  he  wished — "  Father,  suppose  I  should  decline  this 
magnificent  offer  of  their  honors?" 

The  judge  was  at  once  perplexed.  He  did  not  relish  the 
hint  thrown  out.  Indeed,  he  was  manifestly  displeased,  for 
tie  saw  at  a  glance  what  Daniel's  manner  and  words  meant : 
u  Do  you  mean  to  decline  the  appointment  1 "  said  he  to  Daniel. 

"  Most  certainly,  father,"  said  the  young  clerk,  "  I  cannot  do 
otherwise." 

"  Cannot  do  ! — cannot  do  ! — what  can  you  do  1 "  said  the 
old  man,  sternly. 

"  I  can  do  much  better,  father,"  replied  the  law-student,  "  as 
I  can  show  you,  if  you  will  listen." 

"Well,  my  son,"  said  the  father,  softening  a  littln,  "your 


104  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

mother  has  always  said,  that  you  would  come  to  something  or 
to  nothing,  she  was  not  sure  which.  I  think  you  are  now  about 
settling  that  doubt  for  her." 

Daniel  began  and  went  on  with  his  explanation,  which  he 
concluded  by  pouring  into  his  father's  lap  as  much  gold  as  would 
di-charge  him  from  all  his  debts,  and  set  his  heart  at  rest.  Sur 
prised,  overwhelmed,  by  this  sudden  freak  of  fortune,  the  old 
man  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes,  but  thought  he  was  acting  a 
character  in  some  fairy  tale,  of  which  his  son  was  the  presiding 
spirit  He  now  wept  again,  and  wished  to  know  what  all  this 
could  mean.  Daniel  was  good  at  oratory,  and  could  answer 
every  demand  made  upon  his  tongue.  He  told  him  all  about 
it.  He  told  him,  in  short,  how  a  friend  of  his  in  Boston,  a 
man  by  the  name  of  Emery,  had  strangely  and  kindly  offered 
to  let  him  have  the  money,  which  he  was  to  pay  back  when  he 
might  find  it  convenient  to  do  so ;  and  that  all  the  security  he 
had  given  for  the  repayment  of  the  loan  was  his  naked  word. 
At  this,  the  old  man  fell  to  shedding  tears  more  than  ever,  in 
which,  it  is  said,  the  mother  and  the  son  had  to  join  at  last.  At 
all  events,  Daniel  carried  the  point. 

The  fixedness  of  purpose  with  which  Mr.  Webster  with- 
stood the  temptation  of  the  clerkship,  was  due  in  part  to  the 
advice  and  encouragement  of  his  patron.  Mr.  Gore  used 
every  argument,  which  the  occasion  would  naturally  suggest,  to 
dissuade  him  from  accepting  the  appointment,  to  which,  at  the 
first,  he  was  more  than  half  inclined.  In  fact,  at  one  time,  he 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  take  it,  and  thus  end  the  struggle  for 
existence,  as  well  as  gratify  what  he  knew  to  be  the  wishes  of 
his  father.  No  man,  perhaps,  of  all  his  acquaintance,  was  bet- 
ter qualified  to  overturn  this  resolution,  than  Mr.  Gore.  He 
had  Mr.  Webster's  confidence  to  the  utmost.  He  had  been  to 
him,  not  so  much  a  master,  as  a  familiar  friend.  He  was  thor- 
oughly impressed  with  the  extraordinary  talents  of  his  pupil, 
and  used  to  say  to  his  visitors,  that  the  name  of  that  pupil 


TS    ADMITTED    TO    THE    B  \R.  105 

would  one  day  bo  a  name  of  which  the  -whole  country  would 
be  proud.  He  was  himself  emphatically  a  lawyer — a  lawyer 
by  choice,  by  education,  by  long-practice,  and  by  natural  incli 
nation  and  feeling  ;  and  he  was  exactly  the  man  to  portray  the 
good  points  of  the  profession  in  such  a  manner,  so  to  draw  out 
the  picture  of  his  ideal,  as  to  seize  upon  the  imagination,  rouse 
the  enthusiasm,  and  determine  the  resolution  of  a  young  man 
of  Mr.  Webster's  high  ambition  and  elevated  sentiments.  All 
these  advantages,  and  every  other  possessed  by  him,  he  had 
used  upon  his  pupil,  with  all  the. fervor  and  eloquence  that  be- 
longed to  him  in  conversation.  He  had  succeeded  entirely  in 
changing  the  purposes  of  Daniel ;  and  Daniel  himself,  when  he 
sat  down  with  his  father,  at  the  time  just  mentioned,  to  talk  the 
matter  over,  had  the  satisfaction  of  being  able  to  add  Mr.  Gore's 
advice  to  his  own  views,  which  had  thus  become  settled  never 
again  to  be  disturbed  or  diverted. 

On  returning  to  Boston,  he  was  received  with  open  arms  by 
all  his  new  friends ;  and,  after  spending  a  few  weeks  more  in 
the  office,  he  was  presented  by  Governor  Gore  to  the  court  for 
admission.  This  was  in  the  month  of  March,  1805 ;  and  the 
governor,  on  offering  his  name,  is  said  to  have  departed  some- 
what from  the  usual  manner  of  such  proceed  ing,  and  to  have  made 
a  brief  speech  on  the  extraordinary  abilities  and  promise-  of  the 
candidate.  Webster  was  admitted ;  and  from  this  hour,  he  is 
no  longer  a  youth,  a  school-boy,  a  preceptor,  or  a  law-student, 
but  a  man,  a  member  of  the  bar,  a  lawyer  of  Massachusetts., 

Perhaps  no  lawyer  of  Massachusetts,  or  of  any  other  state, 
ever  entered  the  profession  under  so  enviable  a  prestige.  As  a 
student,  he  had  become  well  acquainted  with  the  lawyers  of 
the  city  ;  and  Mr.  Gore's  eulogy,  which  was  from  his  heart  and 
very  eloquent,  at  once  gave  him  a  reputation  in  advance  of  the 
ordinary  probation.  On  the  day  of  his  admission,  he  had  a 
better  standing,  and  was  better  known,  than  some  old  lawyers 
then  in  practice  5n  the  metropolis.  He  was  actually  courted 


106  WETiSTER    AND    FITS    MASTER-PIECES. 

by  those  of  the  profession,  who  foresaw  his  future  eminence, 
and  who  perceived  that  his  good  will  might  be  of  use  to  them 
in  coming  time.  His  friends  wrote  to  him  from  New  Hamp- 
shire to  return  home,  by  all  means,  and  settle  among  his  first 
acquaintances,  who  thought  they  had  the  first  right  to  him. 
They  urged  him  to  corne  on  the  ground  of  policy.  They  told 
him,  that  the  members  of  his  family,  and  the  people  of  his 
state,  would  naturally  feel  an  obligation  to  stand  by  him,  and  a 
pride  in  giving  him  success,  which  he  could  not  expect  from 
strangers. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  citizens  of  Boston  were  advising  him, 
at  the  same  time,  to  remain  with  them,  where  his  talents  would 
have  a  wider  field  of  action,  and  where  competition  would  be 
more  likely  to  draw  him  out  and  thus  develop  him.  They 
insisted  too,  that  he  ought  to  think  something  of  the  chances 
of  emolument,  which,  in  a  new  and  sparsely-settled  country, 
like  New  Hampshire,  would  be  few  and  seldom,  but  would  be 
abundant  in  the  metropolis  of  New  England.  Several  of  the 
leading  merchants  of  the  city  offered  him  their  patronage,  one 
firm  alone  actually  putting  into  his  hands  a  collecting  business 
amounting  to  over  thirty  thousand  dollars. 

Between  these  two  oflers,  Mr.  Webster  could  not  long  hesi- 
tate, when  he  took  into  consideration  the  arguments  of  both 
parties  ;  but  there  was  an  element  in  the  question,  which  neither 
his  friends  in  New  Hampshire,  nor  his  friends  in  Boston,  had 
thought  to  mention.  It  was  an  element,  too,  which  had  more 
weight  with  him,  it  seems,  than  all  other  considerations.  It 
was  the  fact,  that  his  good  old  father,  who  had  spent  his  life  for 
his  children,  who  had  periled  his  property  to  send  his  two  boys 
to  college,  was  now  very  infirm,  and  wished  the  younger  son 
to  be  with  him,  or  near  him,  in  his  declining  years.  This  wish 
brought  the  ambition  and  filial  love  of  a  very  ambitious,  and  a 
very  affectionate  young  man,  into  opposite  sides  of  the  same 
scale.  Which,  reader,  will  outweigh  the  other  ?  No  one,  who 


HIS    FIRST    CAUSE    IN    COURT.  107 

knows  the  heart  of  the  young  man,  or  who  ever  knew  the  heart, 
of  the  same  man  through  every  period  of  his  life,  need  hesitate 
to  answer.  He  who,  to  the  latest  hour,  could  never  write  the 
name  of  his  father,  and  who  never  did  wiite  it,  without  putting  af- 
ter it  a  point  of  admiration,  could  not  long  debate,  could  not  and 
did  not  debate  at  all,  the  question  between  ambition  and  affection. 
The  point  was  immediately  decided.  He  at  once  left  Boston, 
left  his  interesting  and  useful  associations,  left  his  most  numer- 
ous and  most  powerful  friends,  left  all  the  pictures  that  had 
been  drawn  out  to  his  warm  imagination,  left  the  entreaties  of 
all  who  knew  him,  to  begin  his  career  in  a  comparative  wilder- 
ness, among  a  population  who  could  not  then  entirely  appreci- 
ate nor  half  employ  his  talents,  that  he  might  be  a  comfort  to 
him,  who  had  sacrificed  his  own  comfort,  and  risked  all  of  his 
worldly  means,  to  give  him  the  advantages  of  a  thorough  edu- 
cation. He  went  to  Boscawen  and  opened  an  office  near  the 
residence  of  his  father.  Over  his  door  he  put  up  the  unpre- 
tending sign,  which  is  still  preserved  as  a  memento  of  a  great 
man's  start  in  life — "D.  Webster,  Attorney" 

In  the  month  of  March,  1805,  in  the  twenty-third  year  of 
his  age,  and  after  a  nine  years'  period  of  study,  Mr.  Webster 
here  commenced,  in  a  small  but  healthful  and  beautiful  village, 
in  the  interior  of  New  Hampshire,  the  practice  of  his  profession  ; 
and  it  is  probably  not  too  much  to  say  of  him,  that,  though  yet 
but  little  more  than  a  youth,  he  was  the  most  remarkable  in- 
dividual, and  the  individual  most  marked,  most  spoken  of,  if 
net  in  the  whole  state,  at  least  in  that  section  of  the  state.  His 
practice  was,  consequently,  of  very  rapid  growth.  It  began,  in 
fact,  on  the  day  of  his  opening  an  office ;  and  his  first  cause  in 
court  followed  immediately  this  event.  It  was  a  civil  suit,  but 
a  suit  of  considerable  consequence  to  the  litigants,  though  of  no 
general  interest,  excepting  what  it  derived  from  the  notoriety 
of  the  young  barrister  who  was  to  try  it.  The  circumstances 
of  the  occasion  were  peculiar  and  interesting  It  was  a  cause 
VOL.  i.  E* 


108  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTKR-PIECES. 

to  be  tried  before  his  own  father,  who  still  occupied  his  post  as 
judge  ;  and  the  sheriff  of  the  county,  Colonel  William  Webster, 
was  a  distant  relative,  who,  whatever  he  might  have  heard  of 
Daniel,  had  never  seen  him  till  that  day.  The  young  lawyer 
there  met  his  former  master,  Hon.  Thomas  W.  Thompson,  as 
well  as  several  other  lawyers  of  ability  and  experience ;  and 
they  were  all  on  the  tiptoe  of  excitement  to  listen  to  the  maiden 
effort  of  their  junior  brother,  about  whom  so  many  predictions 
had  been  uttered.  When  he  came  into  court,  he  must  have 
felt,  and  felt  keenly,  the  importance  of  the  hour  to  him  ;  but, 
though  modest  in  his  demeanor,  he  did  not  seem  to  be  embar- 
rassed. His  old  patron,  Mr.  Thompson,  would  naturally  greet 
him  with  an  affectionate  and  hearty  welcome ;  the  older  law- 
yers would  as  naturally  follow  the  example,  in  form  at  least, 
if  not  with  the  same  spirit ;  while  the  younger  members  of  the 
bar  might  have  had  some  feelings  of  an  indescribable  character, 
such  as  they  would  scarcely  have  been  willing  to  acknowledge. 
There  was  one  there,  however,  who,  it  appears,  was  not  afraid 
to  acknowledge,  or  to  say  openly  and  frankly,  just  what  he 
thought  and  felt  upon  the  occasion.  That  man  was  the  sheriff. 
When  he  saw  his  kinsman  coming  into  the  audience-room, 
"  he  felt  ashamed,"  as  he  said,  "  to  see  so  lean  and  feeble  a 
young  man  come  into  court,  bearing  the  name  of  Webster." 
His  shame,  nevertheless,  soon  left  him  ;  and  from  the  time  that 
the  young  man  walked  out  of  court,  he  had  more  reason  to  be 
proud  that  his  own  name  was  Webster.  In  the  trite  but  pithy 
language  of  the  Hon.  Mr.  Russel,  who  heard  Daniel's  effort  of 
that  day,  not  only  the  lawyers,  but  all  present,  came  to  the 
conclusion,  that  he  had  "  an  old  head  on  young  shoulders." 
Indeed,  contrary  to  the  idle  tales  told  about  it  in  later  times, 
this  first  speech  of  Mr.  Webster's,  as  a  specimen  of  oratory, 
was  a  good  effort,  and,  as  a  specimen  of  legal  tact  and  know- 
ledge, was  triumphant.  The  fact  that  the  speech,  the  argu 
ment,  was  to  be  delivered  in  the  presence  of  his  father,  who 


OPENING    SUCCESS.  109 

would  then  and  there  see  what  all  his  own  sacrifices  had  been 
made  for,  and  what  they  had  come  to,  undoubtedly  nerved 
Daniel  up  to  do  his  best.  He  always  needed  some  motive  of 
a  powerful  kind  to  draw  out  all  his  power ;  and  it  is  equally 
well  known,  that  never,  when  thus  drawn  out,  did  he  make 
anything  less  than  a  grand  and  irresistible  demonstration  of 
his  abilities. 

The  impression  made  upon  the  bar,  by  this  argument,  and 
by  his  general  practice  at  the  beginning  of  his  career,  is  seen 
in  the  history  of  a  criminal  .prosecution  occurring  at  this  time. 
It  was  a  case  in  which  a  man  was  tried  for  murder  ;  and  Mr. 
Webster,  though  not  yet  admitted  to  practice  before  the  su- 
preme court,  as  the, -period  of  his  candidacy  had  not  yet  ex- 
pired, was  appointed,  by  express  commission  of  the  judges,  to 
defend  the  prisoner.  An  account  of  the  manner  in  which  he 
discharged  this  duty,  with  the  attending  circumstances,  was 
many  years  ago  given  to  the  public:  "The  murder,"  says  the 
writer,  "  was  foul  and  horrid,  perpetrated  on  an  innocent  man, 
a  fellow  prisoner  for  debt.  They  were  in  the  same  room. 
No  provocation  was  given  by  the  sufferer,  or  none  that 
would,  in  the  slightest  degree,  palliate  the  offense.  The  fact 
of  killing  could  not  be  questioned;  and  the  defense,  of  course, 
was  narrowed  toonepoint — the  insanity  of  the  prisoner.  There 
were  no  proofs  of  his  former  insanity,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
the  malignity  of  his  disposition  was  well  known  to  all  the 
country  around.  His  counsel,  nevertheless,  was  not  de- 
terred from  going  on,  with  all  these  formidable  circumstan- 
ces to  contend  with.  He  argued,  that  the  enormity  of  the 
deed,  perpetrated  without  motive,  or  without  any  of  those 
motives  operating  upon  most  minds,  furnished  presumptive 
proof  of  the  alienation  of  the  prisoner's  mind  ;  and  even  the 
cool  deliberation,  and  apparent  severity  which  he  exhibited 
at  the  time  the  deed  was  done,  were  proofs  that  reason  wag 
perverted,  and  that  a  momentary  insanity  had  corae  over 


110  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

nim.  The  advocate  astonished  the  court  and  jury,  and  all 
who  heard  him,  by  his  deep  knowledge  of  the  human  mind. 
He  opened  all  the  springs  of  action,  and  analyzed  every  fac- 
ulty of  the  mind,  so  lucidly  and  philosophically,  that  it  was 
a  new  school  for  those  who  heard  him.  He  showed  the  dif- 
ferent shapes  insanity  assumed,  from  a  single  current  of  false 
reasoning,  upon  a  particular  subject,  while  there  is  a  perfect 
soundness  of  mind  upon  every  other  subject,  to  the  reasoning 
aright  upon  wrong  premises,  or  to  the  reasoning  wrong  upon 
right  premises,  up  to  those  paroxysms  of  madness,  when  the 
eye  is  filled  with  strange  sights,  and  the  ear  with  strange 
sounds,  and  reason  is  entirely  dethroned.  As  he  laid  open 
the  infirmities  of  human  nature,  the  jury  were  in  tears,  and 
the  bystanders  still  more  affected  ;  but  common  sense  pre- 
vailed over  argument  and  eloquence ;  and  the  wretch  was 
convicted  and  executed.  Notwithstanding  the  fate  of  the 
murderer,  the  speech  lost  nothing  of  its  effect  upon  the  peo- 
ple. It  was  long  the  subject  of  conversation  in  every  public 
place ;  arid  it  is  often  mentioned  now  with  admiration." 

During  his  residence  in  the  beautiful  village  of  Boscawen, 
Mr.  Webster  did  not  permit  himself  to  devote  all  his  time  and 
attention  to  the  law.  His  appetite  for  general  knowledge,  and 
his  warm  and  active  imagination,  constantly  led  him  off,  in  the 
intervals  of  his  severer  occupation,  into  the  delightful  fields  or 
history,  biography,  and  poetry.  History  he  had  studied  pro- 
foundly and  extensively  ;  but  he  "still  wished  to  cultivate  par- 
ticular departments,  that  all  the  world,  and  the  annals  of  all 
nations,  might  be  perfectly  familiar  to  him.  He  could  not  bear 
to  hear  an  allusion  to  any  event,  of  remote  or  recent  date,  re- 
lating to  any  people,  barbarous  or  civilized,  or  having  any  re- 
lation to  the  events  of  the  present  day,  and  not  entirely  under- 
stand it.  His  reading,  in  this  respect,  was  so  extensive,  and  so 
thorough,  that,  before  he  was  twenty-five  yea^s  of  age,  he  was 
able  to  stand  his  ground  in  conversation  or 


HIS    LOVE    OF    POETRY.  Ill 

most  eminent  of  his  cotcmporaries;  and,  from  that  time  to  the 
clo.se  of  his  long  life,  he  is  not  known  to  have  made  a  mistake, 
as  a  writer,  or  as  a  speaker,  though  speaking  frequently  with- 
out notes,  in  making  historical  references  or  quotations.  In 
biography,  too,  in  his  knowledge  of  great  men,  ancient  and 
modern,  he  here  began  to  lay  out  that  broad  foundation, 
which,  in  after  life,  never  disappointed  him ;  nor  can  it  be  de- 
nied, that  his  study  of  the  lives  of  the  most  illustrious  of  his 
species,  to  which  he  now  gave  up  a  great  portion  of  his  leisure 
hours,  evidently  exerted  a  controlling  influence  in  the  formation 
of  his  own  character.  It  fired  his  ambition,  enlightened  his  un- 
derstanding, imparted  to  him  a  great  many  maxims  of  success- 
ful living,  derived  from  the  fortunes  and  misfortunes  of  the 
great,  while  it  tended  to  check  his  passions,  to  regulate  his  will, 
and  induce  such  habits  of  industry,  sobriety  and  energy  as  sel 
dom  fail  in  giving  the  greatest  possible  development  to  the  fac- 
ulties, and  the  highest  elevation,  at  last,  to  their  possessor.  In 
poetry,  particularly,  he  was  at  this  period  a  very  constant  and 
careful  reader.  He  was  exceedingly  fond,  at  this  time,  of  the 
English  classic  poets.  He  perused  them  with  a  relish,  and  with 
a  grasp  of  conception  and  of  fancy,  which  filled  his  mind  with 
their  most  charming  images,  and  imprinted  their  finest  passages 
upon  his  memory.  Not  only  the  poets  best  known,  but  those 
lying  outside  of  the  general  range  of  readers,  such  as  Chaucer, 
Spenser,  and  the  dramatists  earlier  than  Shakspeare,  he  studied 
daily.  Shakspeare,  however,  as  was  to  have  been  expected, 
was  alone  a  study.  He  read  him,  as  few  do  read  him,  criti 
cally,  closely,  philosophically,  as  well  as  for  the  exalted  pleas- 
ure of  the  perusal.  He  read  him  as  a  pupil  reads  the  produc- 
tions of  his  master.  He  considered  him  as  his  master,  as  the 
master  of  all  men  in  the  department  of  human  nature,  as  the 
great  master  and  teacher  of  the  English  language,  of  English 
composition,  and  of  true  eloquence.  He  set  him  above  ev- 
ery poet,  ancient  and  modern,  as  the  sublimest  genius  ever 


112  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

known  among  mortals.  His  admiration  of  him  was  then  as 
high,  as  supreme,  as  it  ever  was  afterwards ;  and  he  is  known 
to  have  regarded  him,  through  all  his  career,  as  superior  to 
Milton,  to  Sophocles,  and  to  Homer.  He  was  once  inquired  of 
respecting  the  particular  play  he  liked  best :  "  Always  the  one," 
said  he,  "  that  I  have  read  last,  and  the  others  better  than  any 
thing  else  on  earth,  outside  of  revelation." 

Mr.  Webster  always  made  an  exception,  as  in  this  instance, 
of  the  bible,  which  he  ever  regarded  as  the  most  admirable  and 
wonderful  of  books.  At  the  period  of  his  life  now  before  us, 
he  read  this  volume  every  day,  with  great  reverence,  but  with 
a  special  design  to  comprehend  it.  As  a  profound,  fundamen- 
tal, universal  lawyer,  he  could  not  neglect  a  production,  as  ha 
often  said,  which  contained  in  it  the  elements  of  all  law,  the 
first  principles  of  human  society,  and  the  histories  of  the  earli- 
est forms  of  government.  He  could  here  trace  the  growth  and 
progress  of  civilization  from  its  origin.  He  here  had,  in  the 
annals  of  the  great  empires  of  antiquity,  the  most  memorable 
and  magnificent  illustrations  of  the  different  styles  of  govern- 
ment, of  the  several  forms  of  human  association,  and  of  the 
influence  and  effect  of  nearly  every  system  of  laws  and  every 
species  of  legislation.  Among  the  rest,  there  was  one  style 
of  government,  one  system  of  laws,  so  peculiar,  so  consistent, 
so  complete,  that  it  demanded  and  received  his  most  unquali- 
fied attention,  his  deepest  and  severest  study.  A  theocracy  es- 
tablished by  divine  omniscience,  and  put  into  actual  operation 
among  a  most  practical  and  worldly  people,  he  considered  a 
thing  so  abnormal,  so  out  of  the  ordinary  course,  and  yet  so 
entirely  authenticated  as  a  fact,  and  as  the  greatest  fact  in  the 
history  of  the  human  race,  that  he  could  not  do  otherwise  than 
give  to  it  a  most  careful  and  thorough  investigation.  In  this 
way,  he  became  a  regular  and  unremitting  student  of  the  bible ; 
and  as  he  read  on.  and  mastered  the  great  topic  of  his  inquiry, 
other  topics  opened  up  before  him,  and  fixed  his  attention,  til] 


WRITES    FOR    THE    PRESS.  113 

he  had  formed  the  habit,  as  a  professional  man,  of  reading  the 
scriptures  consecutively  and  thoughtfully.  This  habit,  mingled 
with  the  instructions  of  his  mother,  and  with  the  recollections 
of  his  youth,  now  established  in  his  mind  that  admiration,  in 
his  heart  that  reverence,  for  the  word  of  God,  which  never  left 
him.  He  has  often  been  heard  to  say,  that,  merely  as  literary 
compositions,  the  psalms  and  the  prophets  have  no  superiors, 
and  that  the  book  of  Job  has  nothing  like  an  equal. 

About  this  time,  Mr.  Webster  began  to  write  for  the  public 
press.  There  was  a  magazine  then  published  at  Cambridge, 
Massachusetts,  known  as  the  Monthly  Anthology,  conducted  by 
his  o'd  friend,  Joseph  S.  Buckminster,  and  supported  by  several 
gentlemen  of  more  than  ordinary  standing  in  the  republic  of 
letters.  Though  the  work  can  hardly  endure  a  comparison 
with  the  Spectator,  or  the  Tattler,  or  the  Rambler,  as  a  work  of 
literary  merit,  it  had  merits  of  a  high  order,  and  is  now  re- 
membered with  satisfaction  as  a  first-fruit  from  the  garden  of 
our  literature.  The  biographer  of  Mr.  Buckminster,  in  speak- 
ing of  this  review,  mentions  the  names  of  the  principal  con- 
tributors, and  the  general  character  of  their  articles.  When 
he  reaches  the  name  of  Webster,  he  pauses  long  enough  to  pay 
him  a  special  compliment :  "  Daniel  Webster,  from  the  rocky 
wilds  of  New  Hampshire,  enriched  its  pages  with  his  winged 
thoughts."  It  seems,  therefore,  that^  at  this  early  day,  when  he 
was  but  about  twenty -five  years  of  age,  he  had  begun  to  be  cel- 
ebrated as  a  writer ;  and  those  "  winged  thoughts  "  were  such, 
doubtless,  as  he  has  been  sending  out,  for  half  a  century,  into 
all  parts  of  the  earth,  and  which  have  been  lighting  down  upon 
all  men,  in  all  departments  of  life,  hovering  over  their  memo- 
ries, and  over  their  imaginations,  with  mysterious  effect. 

As  a  specimen  of  his  written  style,  at  this  period  of  his  life, 
his  Concord  oration,  delivered  on  the  4th  of  July,  1800,  may 
be  read  with  satisfaction.  Though  not  a  politician,  perhaps  not 
intending  to  be  one,  his  mind  naturally  traveled  out  of  his  pro- 


114  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

fession  into  the  world,  which  was  then  filled  with  questions  of 
a  political  character  Among  them  all,  there  was  one  question, 
which  had  formed  a  topic  of  juvenile  inquiry,  had  gone  and  re- 
mained with  him  in  the  halls  of  college,  and  had  come  out  of 
college  with  him  as  the  topic  of  his  daily  meditations,  and 
which  was  to  constitute  the  great  topic  of  his  life.  It  was  the 
constitution  of  his  country,  which  he  had  first  studied  from  his 
little  handkerchief,  by  the  side  of  his  father  and  mother,  and 
which  he  had  continued  to  study  with  increasing  interest  from 
that  day  forward,  to  which  his  thoughts  now  turned ;  and  the 
particular  point  of  inquiry,  the  point  of  special  value,  was  the 
possibility,  the  probability,  of  its  preservation.  The  matter  of 
his  thoughts,  and  the  style  of  their  expression,  are  clearly  dis- 
tinguished in  his  own  words  :  "  When  we  speak  of  preserving 
the  constitution,"  says  the  young  orator,  "  we  mean  not  the  pa- 
per on  which  it  is  written,  but  the  spirit  which  dwells  in  it. 
Government  may  lose  all  its  real  character,  its  genius,  its  tem- 
per, without  losing  its  appearance.  Republicanism,  unless  you 
guard  it,  will  creep  out  of  its  case  of  parchment,  like  a  snake 
out  of  its  skin.  You  may  have  a  despotism  under  the  name  of 
a  republic.  You  may  look  on  a  government,  and  see  it  possess 
all  the  external  modes  of  freedom,  and  yet  find  nothing  of  the  es- 
sence, the  vitality,  of  freedom  in  it ;  just  as  you  may  contemplate 
an  embalmed  body,  where  art  hath  preserved  proportion  and 
form,  amid  nerves  without  motion,  and  veins  void  of  blood." 

The  oration,  all  of  which  ran  very  much  in  this  style,  and 
after  this  spirit,  made  a  powerful  impression  on  his  audience, 
and  was  w:dely  celebrated  in  New  Hampshire.  The  newspa- 
pers of  that  state  spoke  of  it  in  high  terms :  "  We  have  sel- 
dom read,"  says  one  of  them,  "any  production  of  this  kind, 
which  has  contained  more  correct  sentiments,  expressed  with  so 
much  felicity  of  fancy  and  purity  of  style.  It  is  free  from  the 
rancorous  colorings  of  paity  spirit,  wrhich  are  wholly  inconsist- 
ent with  true  eloquence.  If  there  is  any  fault  in  the  style,  it 


REMOVES    TO    PORTSMOUTH.  115 

is  that  the  sentences,  though  not  colloquial,  are  in  general  too 
sententious,  and  expressed  with  too  much  brevity  for  the  flow 
of  a  public  harangue."  Ti  at  is,  though  a  young  man  of  only 
twenty-five,  he  had  too  much  thought  for  the  number  of  his 
words ! 

In  the  month  of  Septernb  r,  1807,  after  a  residence  of  two 
years  at  Boscawen,  where  his  health  had  become  bad  by  se 
vere  study,  he  removed  to  the  city  of  Portsmouth,  where,  it 
was  thought,  he  would  have  less  seclusion,  and  a  more  active 
and  healthful  manner  of  life.  His  practice,  which  had  become 
good,  though  not  lucrative,  he  relinquished  to  his  brother  Eze- 
kiel,  who  was  just  from  college.  The  elder  still  followed  in 
the  footsteps  of  the  younger.  So  true  it  is,  that  genius  is  more 
than  years,  giving  a  man  precedence  contrary  to  the  estab 
lished  laws  of  nature. 

In  Portsmouth,  which  was  then,  as  it  is  now,  the  chief  com 
mercial  city  of  the  state,  and  distinguished  for  its  good  society, 
Mr.  Webster  entered  into  a  field  better  corresponding  to  his 
talents.  He  there  met  a  number  of  lawyers,  most  of  whom  he 
had  known  before,  but  whom  he  was  now  to  meet,  in  daily 
practice,  face  to  face.  Had  he  been  himself  a  lawyer  of  no 
pretensions,  so  close  a  connection  would  not  have  greatly  an- 
noyed him  ;  he* could  have  lived  in  obscurity,  in  the  shade  of 
their  overtowering  reputations,  thankful  for  the  privilege  of  oc- 
casionally enjoying  the  benefit  of  their  counsel ;  but  to  go  there 
and  live  upon  their  own  ground,  as  an  independent  individual, 
to  live  there  as  their  equal,  to  live  there,  perhaps,  in  spite  of 
them,  was  a  very  different  matter.  It  was  a  matter,  however, 
that  gave  him  no  concern.  He  knew  his  own  strength,  though 
he  was  never  vain  of  it ;  and  his  position,  his  rights,  were  soon 
acknowledged.  The  oldest  and  ablest  lawyers  of  the  metrop- 
olis wrere  glad  to  divide  with  him  what  they  could  not  monop- 
olize. He  was  sought  after,  in  fact,  rather  than  repelled  by 
them.  Jeremiah  Mason,  and  Jeremiah  Smith,  with  other  law- 


116  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

yers  of  nearly  their  repute,  received  him  with  open  arms;  and 
a  friendship  was  formed  between  them,  which,  without  a  day's 
interruption,  lasted  to  the  end  of  life. 

The  reader  may  wish  to  know  what  was  thought  of  Mr. 
Webster,  at  this  time,  by  those  qualified  to  render  a  sound 
judgment ;  and  it  is  fortunate  that  his  reputation  and  character, 
as  he  was  when  he  went  to  Portsmouth,  have  oeen  given  to 
the  world  by  so  competent  a  critic  as  Jeremiah  Smith  :  "  In 
single  qualities,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  "  I  have  known  men  superior 
to  Mr.  Webster.  Hamilton  had  more  original  genius,  Ames 
greater  quickness  of  imagination.  Marshall,  Parsons  and  Dex- 
ter were  as  remarkable  for  logical  strength ;  but  in  the  union 
of  high  intellectual  qualities,  I  have  known  no  man  equal  to 
Daniel  Webster."  Such  was  the  opinion,  which  one  great  man 
had  formed  of  another,  who,  at  that  time,  had  not  made  a  sin- 
gle manifestation  of  all  the  power  that  was  in  him. 

For  a  year,  or  more,  prior  to  this  period,  Mr.  Webster  had 
been  an  occasional  visitor  to  the  house  of  the  Rev.  Elijah 
Fletcher,  of  Hopkinton,  a  Congregational  clergyman,  who  was 
known  for  his  piety  and  the  patronage  he  bestowed  upon  young 
men.  The  visits  became  more  and  more  frequent,  till,  on  the 
eleventh  of  June,  1808,  the  Portsmouth  Oracle,  a  newspaper 
of  that  day,  appeared  with  the  brief  announcement :  "  Married 
in  Salisbury,  Daniel  Webster,  Esq.,  of  this  town,  to  Miss  Grace 
Fletcher."  This  is  all  that  is  said  respecting  the  most  inter- 
esting event  in  the  life  of  the  greatest  man  of  modern  times. 
Such  is  republican  simplicity  ! 

The  wife  of  Mr.  Webster  was  one  of  three  daughters,  whose 
talents,  accomplishments,  and  virtues  were  the  joy  of  their 
father's  house.  Grace  was  particularly  attractive,  not  only  for 
her  personal  beauty,  but  for  her  acquirements,  and  still  more 
for  her  amiable  disposition.  The  three  were  all  married  in 
early  life,  one  to  a  Mr.  White,  of  Pittsfield,  another  to  the  Hon. 
Israel  W.  Kelley,  of  Salisbury,  and  the  third  to  Mr.  Webster, 


THE    HAPPINESS    OF    HIS    LIFE.  117 

who,  fill  tne  day  of  her  untimely  death,  loved  and  honored  her 
with  almost  a  devout  affection. 

Now  Mr.  Webster  was  fairly  settled  in  life.  He  was  twen- 
ty-six years  of  age,  in  improving  health,  well  educated,  happily 
married,  a  sound  and  thorough  lawyer,  and  entering  into  an  ex- 
tensive practice.  Having  many  friends,  and  no  enemies,  moral 
in  his  life,  and  by  education  religious  in  his  sentiments,  there 
was  nothing  around  him,  or  before  him,  but  happiness,  useful- 
ness and  honor.  It  was  the  most  beautiful  and  blissful  period 
of  his  life.  It  was  the  period  to  which  he  most  often  looked 
back,  in  after  years,  with  that  mellow  and  thoughtful  cast  of 
countenance,  that  always  characterized  his  serenest  meditations. 
More  than  once  has  he  attempted  to  tell  a  friend  how  happy 
he  then  was ;  how  pure  and  peaceful  his  daily  course ;  how 
calm  and  contented  his  repose  at  night ;  how  satisfied  he  was 
with  the  moderate  independence  afforded  him  by  his  profession  ; 
with  what  disrelish  he  looked  out  upon  the  din  and  confusion 
of  the  troubled  world ;  with  what  unspeakable  delight,  in  the 
midst  of  what  little  fell  to  him  of  that  world's  noisy  strife,  he 
turned  his  eyes  to  his  sweet  home,  where  was  the  wife  of  his 
heart,  where  his  thoughts  and  affections  centered,  and  to  which 
he  trusted  he  might  some  day  retreat  from  every  worldly  care, 
from  every  disturbing  influence,  to  spend  his  best  days  in  do- 
mestic quiet,  with  his  family  and  his  books.  More  than  once, 
when  the  attempt  has  been  made,  and  the  picture  has  been  half- 
drawn,  has  the  tear  run  down  his  cheek,  his  lip  quivered,  his 
speech  faltered,  till  his  utterance  became  choked. 

This  portion  of  his  life,  however,  was  not  constituted  entirely 
of  tender  scenes  and  sentiments.  In  the  daily  practice  of  his 
profession,  he  met  with  many  things  of  a  most  amusing  char- 
acter ;  and,  with  all  his  constitutional  gravity,  there  was  a  vein 
of  natural  humor  in  him,  as  has  been  seen,  that  gave  him  the 
highest  possible  relish  for  what  was  genuinely  ludicrous.  Long 
years  after  this  part  of  his  career  was  passed,  indeed,  to  the  end 


118  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

of  life,  he  used  to  tell  professional  anecdotes  connected  with  hi* 
stay  in  Portsmouth,  which,  while  they  never  failed  to  amuse 
his  hearers  to  the  highest  pitch,  threw  a  flood  of  light  on  his 
personal  history,  and  on  the  manners  and  customs  of  that  early 
day  :  "Soon  after  commencing  the  practice  of  my  profession 
at  Portsmouth,"  said  Mr.  Webster  once,  when  he  happened  to 
be  in  a  story -telling  mood,  "  I  was  waited  on  by  an  old  ac- 
quaintance of  my  father's,  resident  in  an  adjacent  county,  who 
wished  to  engage  my  professional  services.  Some  years  previ- 
ous he  had  rented  a  form,  with  the  clear  understanding,  that  he 
could  purchase  it,  after  the  expiration  of  the  lease,  for  one  thou- 
sand dollars.  Finding  the  farm  productive,  he  soon  deter 
mined  to  own  it ;  and,  as  he  laid  aside  money  for  the  purchase, 
he  was  prompted  to  improve  what  he  felt  certain  he  would 
possess.  But  his  landlord,  seeing  the  property  greatly  in- 
creased in  value,  coolly  refused  to  take  the  one  thousand  dol- 
lars, when  in  due  time  it  was  presented  ;  and,  when  his  extor- 
tionate demand  of  double  that  sum  was  refused,  he  at  once 
brought  an  action  of  ejectment.  The  man  had  but  the  one 
thousand  dollars,  and  an  unblemished  reputation,  yet  I  wil- 
lingly undertook  his  case. 

"The  opening  argument  of  the  plaintiff's  attorney  left  me 
little  ground  for  hope.  He  stated  that  he  could  prove  that  my 
client  hired  the  farm,  but  that  there  was  not  a  word  in  the 
lease  about  the  sale,  nor  was  there  a  word  spoken  about  the  sale 
when  the  lease  was  signed,  as  he  should  prove  by  a  witness. 
In  short,  it  was  a  clear  case ;  and  I  left  the  court-room  at  din- 
ner time  with  feeble  hopes  of  success.  By  chance,  I  sat  at  ta- 
ble by  the  side  of  a  newly-commissioned  militia  officer;  and  a 
brother  lawyer  began  to  joke  him  about  his  lack  of  martial 
knowledge.  'Indeed,'  he  jocosely  remarked,  'you  should  write 

down  the  orders,  and  get  old  W to  beat  them  into  your 

sconce,  as  I  saw  him  this  morning,  with  a  paper  in  his  hand, 
teaching  something  to  young  M in  the  court-house  entry.' 


POPULARITY    AS  A    LAVWER.  119 

"  Gin  it  be,  thought  I,  that  old  W ,  the  plaintiff  in  the 

case,  was  instructing  young  M ,  who  was  his  reliable 

witness  ? 

"  After  dinner  the  court  was  reopened,  and  M was  put 

upon  the  stand.  He  was  examined  by  the  plaintiff's  counsel ; 
and  he  certainly  told  a  clear,  plain  story,  repudiating  all  know- 
ledge of  any  agreement  to  sell.  When  he  had  concluded,  the 
opposite  counsel,  with  a  triumphant  glance,  turned  to  me,  and 
asked  me  if  I  was  satisfied.  '  Not  quite,'  I  replied. 

"  I  had  noticed  a  piece  of  paper  protruding  out  of  M 's 

pocket,  and,  hastily  approaching  him,  1  seized  it  before  he  had 
the  least  idea  of  my  intention.  '  Now,'  I  asked,  '  tell  me  if  this 
paper  does  not  detail  the  story  you  have  so  clearly  told  ?  And 
is  it  not  false  1 '  The  witness  hung  his  head  with  shame  ;  and 
when  the  paper  was  found  to  be  what  I  supposed,  and  in  the 

very  hand-writing  of  old  W ,  the  case  was  lost  at  once. 

Nay,  there  was  such  a  storrn  of  indignation  against  him,  that 
he  even  removed  to  the  West. 

"  Years  afterward,  when  visiting  New  Hampsire,  I  was  the 
guest  of  my  professional  brethren  at  a  public  dinner ;  and, 
toward  the  close  of  the  festivities,  I  was  asked  if  I  would  solve 
a  great  doubt  by  answering  a  question.  '  Certainly.'  '  Well, 
then,  Mr.  Webster,  we  have  often  wondered  how  you  knew 
what  was  in  M 's  pocket ! '" 

During  the  four  years  next  succeeding  his  marriage,  Mr. 
Webster's  popularity  as  a  lawyer  was  constantly  rising  ;  and, 
at  the  age  of  thirty,  when  most  young  men  are  satisfied  if  they 
have  begun  to  establish  a  business,  his  reputation  was  higher 
than  that  of  any  lawyer  in  New  Hampshire.  Almost  every 
advantage  seemed  to  cener  in  him.  In  the  first  place,  his 
health  had  greatly  improved ;  his  manly  frame  had  put  on  a 
full,  round  form ;  and  he  was  justly  celebrated,  beyond  any 
man  of  his  time,  for  the  combined  dignity  and  beauty  of  his 
person.  Then,  intellectually,  he  had  made  daily  advancement 


120  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

in  every  vai  'cty  of  knowledge ;  he  had  studied,  and  thought, 
and  written,  almost  incessantly ;  all  his  mental  faculties  were 
thoroughly  awake ;  and  every  effort  he  had  made,  with  tongue 
or  pen,  had  been  successful,  giving  him  the  invaluable  prestige 
of  never  failing.  But,  what  was  even  of  more  consequence,  he 
had  begun  the  world,  not  with  a  pure  moral  character  merely, 
but  with  a  name  for  everything  noble,  high  and  dignified ;  he 
was  supposed  to  be  incapable  of  a  low  word,  a  mean  act,  or  an 
unworthy  principle  ;  he  was  looked  to  as  a  pattern  of  correct 
behavior,  of  sound  worth,  as  well  as  of  the  most  exalted  talents ; 
and  he  seemed  to  be  determined,  in  every  act  of  his  life,  to 
maintain  this  lofty  elevation.  As  a  lawyer,  even,  he  would  do 
nothing,  and  say  nothing,  whatever  might  be  the  motives,  that 
could  in  any  way  dishonor  him.  lie  laid  it  down  as  a  rule  of 
his  professional  life,  that  he  would  undertake  no  man's  cause, 
without  first  assuring  himself  of  its  being,  at  least  in  all  proba- 
bility, worthy  of  defense.  He  would  defend  no  villain.  Though 
a  lawyer,  and  only  a  lawyer,  he  considered  it  his  duty,  and  he 
made  it  his  business,  to  defend  the  innocent,  to  help  the  needy, 
and  to  maintain  the  interests  of  society.  The  same  elevated 
bearing  distinguished  him  when  actually  engaged  at  coiwt. 
There  was  no  tricking,  no  cunning,  no  pettifogging,  in  his  argu- 
ments. Seizing  hold  of  the  strong  points  of  his  case,  he  urged 
them,  and  them  only,  with  all  the  force  of  his  masterly  abili- 
ties, and  with  all  the  learning  needful,  but  never  with  false,  or 
garbled,  or  distorted  quotations.  The  facts  he  stated  were  al- 
ways facts  ;  his  authorities  were  real  authorities,  acknowledged 
by  all  good  lawyers ;  and  the  application  he  made  of  his  cita- 
tions were  always  fair,  legitimate,  and  to  the  point.  In  this 
way,  he  obtained  an  overwhelming  influence  over  courts  and 
juries.  They  relied  on  his  word ;  and  it  is  probably  true, 
that,  in  many  instances,  his  statements  had  as  much  to  do  with 
the  verdict,  as  the  testimony  of  the  most  reliable  of  his  wit- 
nesses. He  once  said  in  court,  that,  sooner  than  he  would  de 


HIS  REPUTATION  STILL  RISING.  121 

liberately  misstate  a  fact,  or  knowingly  misquote  an  authority, 
or  dishonorably  misapply  a  precedent,  he  would  lose  his  case ; 
and  the  people  everywhere,  as  well  as  the  barristers  and  judges, 
believed  him  when  he  said  it.  It  is  no  wonder,  then,  that  such 
a  man,  with  such  principles  of  action,  could  carry  all  before 
him.  It  is  no  wonder,  that  his  name  was  a  tower  of  strength 
to  his  clients,  giving  them,  almost  certainly,  the  victory.  It  is 
no  wonder,  that,  far  and  near,  that  name  took  wing,  going  to 
every  hamlet  in  his  native  state.  The  best  critics  about  him 
had  given  their  decision  in  his  favor ;  and  the  people,  though 
not  prepared,  perhaps,  to  give  an  enlightened  judgment  of  their 
own,  could  easily  believe  what  was  so  abundantly  demonstra- 
ted by  his  success : 

"Applause 

Waits  on  success.    The  fickle  multitude, 
Like  the  light  straw  that  floats  along  the  stream, 
Glide  with  the  current  still,  and  follow  fortune," 

In  this  manner,  and  precisely  at  this  time,  New  England  be 
gan  to  hear  of  the  name  of  Daniel  Webster.  We  shall  now 
see  the  first  fruits  of  this  popular  reputation. 


CHAPTER  VL 

REPRESENTATIVE  TO  CONGRESS. 

IT  was  not  to  be  expected,  in  spite  of  his  domestic  spirit  *»id 
his  disrelish  of  the  turmoil  of  public  life,  that  a  man  born  amidst 
the  excitements  of  one  war,  and  beginning  the  world  at  the 
opening  of  another,  when  every  citizen  was  called  to  think  and 
act,  could  keep  himself  entirely  clear  of  politics.  Mr.  Web- 
ster, also,  was  not  only  a  lawyer,  but  by  education,  by  study, 
by  the  habit  of  his  mind,  a  statesman.  He  was  better  in- 
formed respecting  the  history,  character,  wants  and  prospects 
of  the  republic,  than  any  man  about  him.  His  opinion  was 
vei  y  likely  to  be  looked  for ;  and,  such  was  his  manly  indepen- 
dence, he  was  free  to  give  it  to  every  one  that  asked  it.  But 
when  a  man  has  given  an  opinion,  he  has  something  at  stake ; 
and  he  is  certain  to  defend  himself,  whenever  he  is  called  in 
question.  Exactly  in  this  way  was  Mr.  Webster  drawn  into 
politics,  which  he  had  always  shunned  and  dreaded. 

The  leading  political  question  of  the  day  was  that  of  the  pol- 
icy, or  impolicy,  of  the  war  with  England ;  and  this  was  the 
immediate  outgrowth  of  the  war  between  England  and  the 
French  republic.  Bonaparte,  springing  from  the  bosom  of  the 
people,  had  gradually  risen  to  such  power  as  to  put  under  his 
feet  the  government  of  the  people  ;  and  on  the  ruins  of  this 
popular  government  he  had  erected  an  empire,  which,  in  the 
pride  of  his  ambition,  he  had  resolved  to  make  universal.  In 
the  pursuit  of  this  grand  design,  in  which  he  had  intoxicated  the 
French  nation  with  the  belief,  that  his  own  aggrandizement  and 


HE    IS    DRAW*    INTO    POLITICS.  123 

their  glory  were  identical,  he  had  subdued  nearly  every  nation 
of  Europe.  England  and  Russia,  for  once  made  friends  by 
their  common  danger,  were  almost  the  only  exceptions,  and 
really  the  sole  barriers,  to  his  European  empire.  Nearly  all 
of  the  great  powers,  however,  either  secretly  or  openly,  had 
combined  against  him  ;  but,  in  the  general  struggle,  no  one  of 
them  had  given  him  so  much  trouble  as  Great  Britain.  By 
land,  he  could  cope,  and  had  coped,  with  everything  that  could 
be  brought  against  him ;  but  the  English  navy,  then  at  the 
acme  of  its  power,  had  taken  from  France  most  of  her  insu- 
lar possessions,  and  swept  her  shipping  from  the  seas.  To  ac 
complish  this  result,  England  had  been  compelled  to  employ 
all  her  naval  force,  and  to  abandon  almost  entirely  her  foreign 
trade,  on  which  she  depended,  of  course,  for  the  greater  part  of 
her  bread-stuffs  in  a  time  of  peace,  and  for  immensely  increased 
agricultural  supplies  in  a  time  of  war.  Her  vast  military  es- 
tablishment, growing  with  every  day's  continuance  of  the  war, 
had  gradually  drawn  so  much  upon  the  rural  and  manufactur 
ing  districts,  had  transformed  so  many  producers  into  wasters, 
that  the  success  of  all  her  gigantic  military  efforts,  if  not  the 
existence  of  the  nation,  seemed  to  depend  on  such  stores  as 
could  be  obtained  from  other  lands.  France,  at  the  same  time, 
shaken  by  internal  revolutions  for  more  than  twenty  years,  and 
exhausted  by  a  succession  of  the  most  bloody  and  most  expen- 
sive foreign  wars,  had  been  compelled  by  degrees  to  call  her 
agricultural  population  to  take  arms,  and  thus,  like  England,  to 
throw  herself  upon  other  countries  for  a  supply  of  bread.  This, 
in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view,  was  the  harvest  day  for  America, 
which,  even  then,  could  export  more  grain  and  flour  than  all 
Europe  combined  ;  and  it  actually  became  the  leading  business 
of  this  country  to  carry  food  to  the  belligerent  and  hungry  na- 
tions of  the  old  world,  and  particularly  to  England  and  to 
France.  Peace,  therefore,  to  be  maintained  by  a  most  positive 
neutrality,  was  evidently  thp  r-f*?t  policy,  th*  only  good  politics, 

VOL.  I.  F 


124  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

of  this  country.  Our  people,  and  our  politicians,  had  a  right 
to  remain,  so  far  as  their  financial  interests  were  concerned, 
cool  and  even  calculating  spectators  of  the  European  struggle, 
to  enrich  and  strengthen  their  country  at  the  expense  of  a  gen- 
eral conflict  which  they  could  neither  govern  nor  prevent. 

In  every  democratic  country,  however,  the  passions  of  the 
multitude,  at  a  period  of  popular  excitement,  are  more  likely 
to  get  the  ascendency,  than  the  better  judgment  of  the  more 
sagacious  and  reflecting  class  of  minds.  It  was  so,  in  this  coun- 
try, at  that  time.  A  few  years  before,  England  had  been  our 
enemy,  and  France  our  ally,  in  the  most  illustrious  and  impor- 
tant of  modern  wars.  This  was  the  first  thing  thought  of  by 
superficial  men ;  and  this  consideration  alone  had  been  sufficient, 
from  the  very  opening  of  the  French  revolution,  to  carry  the 
feelings  of  a  large  portion  of  our  citizens  to  the  side  of  France. 
This  revolution  of  France,  too,  in  its  inception,  with  all  its  bar- 
barities and  opposition  to  Christianity,  had  been  called  a  demo- 
cratic movement ;  and,  as  usual,  thousands  of  the  uninformed, 
honest  and  true-hearted  as  they  were,  had  been  cheated  by  a 
name.  The  third  and  perhaps  the  most  powerful  of  the  causes, 
that  had  thus  worked  together  to  create  the  public  opinion  of 
the  United  States,  in  relation  to  this  subject,  was  the  efforts 
made  by  a  class  of  American  infidels,  led  on  by  Thomas  Paine 
and  favored  by  Thomas  Jefferson,  which,  cooperating  with 
Voltaire,  and  the  French  atheists,  who  were  the  high-priests  of 
the  French  democracy,  in  their  attempt  to  overthrow  the  church 
of  France,  expected  in  this  way  to  begin  the  overthrow  of 
Christianity  in  every  land.  In  this  manner,  and  chiefly  for  these 
reasons,  during  all  the  wars  of  the  French  Directory,  and  in 
the  midst  of  the  wars  of  Bonaparte,  a  majority  of  the  Ameri- 
can people  had  given  their  sympathies  to  France. 

Bonaparte,  waxing  hotter  in  his  hatred  to  England,  as  the 
final  contest  between  him  and  her  drew  more  near  at  hand,  see- 
ing her  dependence  upon  foreign  countries,  and  chiefly  upon 


EUROPEAN    POLITICS.  125 

this  country,  for  her  supplies  of  food,  resdved  to  2«t  off  those 
supplies  at  a  single  stroke,  and  thus  starve  her  into  a  submis- 
sion which  he  had  not  been  able  to  compel  by  force  of  arms. 
While  at  the  city  of  Berlin,  in  the  midst  of  his  victories  of  the 
German  war,  he  issued  a  decree,  which  blockaded  all  the  ports 
of  England,  but  opened  wider  than  ever,  to  the  shipping  of  all 
nations,  excepting  England  and  her  allies,  the  ports  of  France. 
This,  though  aimed  at  Great  Britain,  was  a  still  heavier  blow 
against  the  United  States ;  and  it  was  clearly  the  policy  of  the 
United  States  to  join  with  England  in  repelling  an  attack,  which, 
in  a  business  point  of  view,  gave  to  the  two  countries  a  com- 
mon cause. 

England,  however,  had  given  to  our  people  a  very  grave  of- 
fence. Her  seamen,  weary  of  the  long  war,  or  envious  of  the 
rich  gains  of  the  peaceful  commerce  of  our  merchantmen,  had 
been  deserting  the  English  navy,  and  entering  into  the  Ameri- 
can trade,  in  large  numbers ;  and  the  sea-faring  population  of 
Great  Britain,  who  had  had  no  connection  with  the  British  mar- 
itime service,  had  numerously  followed  this  example.  England, 
alarmed  at  these  desertions  from  her  navy,  and  equally  alarmed 
at  the  loss  of  so  many  of  that  class  of  her  people,  from  which 
her  navy,  in  any  emergency,  was  to  be  supplied,  saw  no  other 
alternative,  than  to  pass  laws,  and  send  out  orders  to  her  naval 
officers,  to  reclaim  all  such  of  her  refugee  citizens,  and  compel 
them  to  return  to  their  allegiance,  wherever  they  might  be 
found.  Such  laws  had  been  passed ;  but  their  execution,  easy 
in  respect  to  nations  speaking  other  languages  and  marked  by 
different  costumes  and  manners,  was  exceedingly  difficult  in  re- 
lation to  our  own ;  and  the  result  often  was,  without  doubt, 
with  all  the  care  possible  in  such  a  case,  that  hundreds  if  not 
thousands  of  American  citizens,  mistaken  for  Englishmen  in 
disguise,  were  thus  taken  from  their  own  vessels  and  thrust  into 
the  English  men-of-war.  Though  the  English  government  of- 
fered to  return  every  American  citizen  thus  abducted,  whose 


126  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

citizenship  could  be  proved,  the  haters  ot  England,  those 
cheated  by  the  French  use  of  the  word  democracy,  and  the 
American  infidels,  constituting  the  republican  or  democratic 
party  in  the  days  of  Jefferson,  overlooking  the  sublime  position 
of  Great  Britain  at  that  time,  as  the  great  and  last  bulwark  of 
Christianity,  overlooking  the  extinction  of  everything  demo- 
cratic in  France  under  the  imperial  ambition  of  Bonaparte,  and 
secretly  favoring  the  infidels  of  America,  whose  success,  rt  was 
supposed,  would  tend  to  widen  the  distance  in  our  government 
between  church  and  state,  were  willing  enough  to  brook  the  in- 
sult and  the  injury  of  the  Berlin  decree,  but  took  fire  at  once 
against  England  for  her  attempt,  carelessly  executed,  it  is  con- 
fessed,  to  recover  the  services  of  her  own  citizens  in  a  time  of 
uncommon  need. 

Actuated  by  such  motives,  the  party  in  power,  under  the  ad- 
ministration of  Jefferson,  instead  of  going  forward  to  keep  up 
our  lucrative  commerce  with  Great  Britain,  and  with  her  allies, 
in  spite  of  the  French  embargo,  which  France  had  not  navy 
enough  to  enforce  against  us,  or  against  any  other  nation  at 
peace  with  England,  had  sent  an  ambassador  to  Paris  and  be- 
come the  ally  of  France.  They  had  taken  the  weaker  and  the 
wicked  side,  when  the  material  welfare  of  their  country,  and  a 
just  regard  for  the  cause  of  morality  and  religion  throughout 
the  world,  in  a  word,  when  duty  and  interest  both,  had  de- 
manded the  utmost  stretch  of  charity  toward  England,  in  her 
day  of  embarrassment  and  peril,  since  that  very  peril  she  was 
suffering  not  more  for  herself,  than  for  the  highest  and  holiest 
interests  of  mankind.  Not  daring,  however,  in  a  manly  way, 
if  war  with  England  was  right  and  just,  to  make  an  open  dec- 
laration of  war,  and  meet  the  enemy  upon  an  open  sea,  in  a  weak 
and  cowardly  manner,  they  had  laid  a  second  embargo,  an 
American  embargo,  on  American  shipping,  not  only  forbidding 
trade  with  England,  which  trade  France  most  desired  should 
be  forbidden,  but  with  all  th*  rest  of  the  world,  thus  at  the 


EUROPEAN    POLITICS    CONTINUED.  127 

same  time  helping  Bonaparte  in  his  effort  of  annihilating  Great 
Britain  at  a  cost  little  less  than  ruinous  to  ourselves.  Our  soil, 
it  is  true,  remained  fertile,  and  could  give  us  the  necessaries  of 
existence ;  but  the  great  surplus  of  produce,  on  which  we  de- 
pended, through  our  flourishing  commerce,  for  the  comforts  and 
the  elegancies  of  life,  and  for  the  means  of  developing  the  hid- 
den resources  of  our  country,  had  been  allowed  to  perish  in  our 
fields.  Wheat  had  fallen  in  a  day  from  the  price  of  two  dol- 
lars per  bushel  to  that  of  seventy  cents ;  and  the  whole  land, 
while  aiding  a  traitor  to  republicanism  in  an  attempt  to  break 
down  the  best  government  of  the  best  people,  next  to  our  own, 
on  the  face  of  the  earth,  had  been  bereft  of  its  business,  its  pol 
icy,  and  its  power. 

Immediately  upon  this,  England,  still  struggling  for  her  ex 
istence  against  the  great  aspirant  to  universal  dominion,  and 
seeing  no  other  way  of  meeting  the  force  of  the  Berlin  decree, 
had  published  her  celebrated  orders  in  council,  which,  in  sub- 
stance, were  another  embargo,  which  blockaded  against  all  na- 
tions the  pgyts  of  France  ;  but  in  the  execution  of  these  orders, 
still  looking  with  a  friendly  eye  upon  the  United  States,  as  the 
natural  ally  of  the  great  Anglo-Saxon  and  Protestant  power  of 
Europe,  England  had  treated  our  shipping  with  a  favor,  which 
she  had  denied  to  all  the  commerce  of  the  world.  Publishing 
her  orders  suddenly,  after  a  lengthy  but  secret  deliberation, 
she  had  permitted  all  American  vessels,  then  in  her  ports,  to 
leave  peaceably  with  their  cargoes,  and  had  given  directions  to 
her  naval  commanders,  in  every  part  of  the  globe,  to  allow  our 
merchantmen  quietly  to  return  home. 

In  this  state  of  things  had  the  country  been  left,  at  the  expi- 
ration of  Jefferson's  second  term ;  and  when  his  successor,  Mr. 
Madison,  had  come  into  the  presidency,  he  had  seen  so  much 
evil  to  our  commerce,  and  consequently  to  our  agriculture,  and 
to  all  the  business  of  our  hitherto  thriving  population,  flowing 
from  this  policy  that  he  had  been,  at  the  beginning  of  his  pros- 


128  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

idential  career,  favorable  to  a  repeal  of  the  embargo,  and  a 
friend  to  more  peaceful  measures.  But  his  party,  heterogene- 
ous and  yet  united,  could  not  be  controlled  by  a  weak,  a  hesita- 
ting, a  timorous  man.  Madison  was  borne  on,  by  the  force  of 
party  feeling,  through  four  years  of  irresolution  and  -fear  ;  but 
when  he  had  approached  the  termination  of  his  first  term,  he 
had  seen  no  way  of  maintaining  his  position  with  his  partisans, 
and  of  retaining  his  high  office  for  four  years  longer,  but  to 
smother  his  convictions  and  his  conscience,  and  rush  forward  to 
a  still  more  "  entangling  alliance  "  with  Napoleon,  the  end  of 
which,  as  every  one  could  see,  and  as  he  had  plainly  seen  and 
confessed,  would  be  a  second  war  with  England. 

That  war,  indeed,  soon  came ;  and  it  was  at  the  time  of  its 
declaration,  in  1812,  that  Mr.  Webster,  in  the  manner  hereto- 
fore described,  had  been  compelled,  by  the  demands  of  his  fel- 
low-citizens, and  by  the  wants  of  a  distracted  country,  to  utter 
his  opinions,  and  to  enter  into  the  internal  conflict  of  the  nation. 
What  those  opinions  were,  or  what  special  part  he  took,  and 
continued  to  bear,  in  the  conflict,  he  has  left  no  room  to 
doubt. 

In  the  first  place,  he  was  opposed  to  the  embargo,  and  to 
the  policy  that  dictated  the  embargo,  because  he  regarded  it  as 
an  indirect  but  effectual  mode  of  aiding  the  ambition  of  Bona- 
parte in  rooting  out  or  trampling  down  the  last  remains  of  the 
originally  genuine  democracy  of  France,  and  of  setting  up  a 
bitter  though  splendid  tyranny  in  its  place.  He  was  opposed 
to  this  policy,  because  it  was  giving  equal  succor  to  the  same 
man  in  his  unprovoked  attacks  upon  the  governments  of  Eu- 
rope, and  especially  upon  Protestant  Great  Britain,  which  the 
aspirant  looked  upon  with  the  deepest  hatred,  and  which  he 
was  determined,  as  the  master-piece  and  conclusion  of  his  bloody 
career,  to  blot  from  the  map  of  nations.  He  was  opposed  to 
this  policy,  because,  while  it  strengthened  France  and  weak- 
ened England,  it  destroyed  our  own  commerce,  cast  a  alight 


HIS    FIRST    POLITICAL    SPEECH.  129 

upon  our  agriculture  by  shutting  off  our  markets,  and  thus  com- 
pletely paralyzed  the  business  of  the  country.  He  was  oppo- 
sed to  this  policy,  also,  and  was  warm  in  his  opposition,  be- 
cause, as  he  saw  it,  and  as  others  saw  it,  it  was  a  powerful  sup- 
port tt  the  rampant  infidelity  of  the  French  atheists,  who,  in 
their  nvidness,  had  declared  the  scriptures  to  be  a  fraud,  Chris- 
tianity a  lie,  the  Almighty  a  fiction,  and  Jesus  Christ  an  im- 
postor and  a  wretch.  This  infidelity,  indeed,  had  been  the 
original  and  exciting  cause  of  the  French  Revolution,  which,  in 
its  turn,  had  opened  the  way  for  the  ambition  of  Bonaparte, 
who  now  looked  upon  •  the  people  of  the  United  States  as  his 
ally  against  their  own  republican  principles,  against  their  kin- 
dred, their  religion,  and  their  God. 

The  particular  occasion,  which  drew  Mr.  Webster  out  into 
the  arena  of  politics,  has  been  described,  by  a  class-mate  of  his 
brother  :  "  The  first  halo  of  political  glory,  that  hung  around 
his  brow,  was  at  a  convention  of  the  great  spirits  in  the  county 
of  Rockingham,  where  he  then  resided,  and  such  representatives 
from  other  counties  as  were  sent  to  this  convention,  to  take  into 
consideration  the  state  of  the  nation,  and  to  mark  out  such  a 
course  for  themselves  as  should  be  deemed  advisable  by  the 
collected  wisdom  of  those  assembled.  On  this  occasion,  an  ad- 
dress, with  a  string  of  resolutions,  were  proposed  for  adoption, 
of  which  he  was  said  to  be  the  author.  They  exhibited  uncom- 
mon powers  of  intellect  and  a  profound  knowledge  of  our  na- 
tional interests.  He  made  a  most  powerful  speech  in  support 
of  these  resolutions,  portions  of  which  were  reprinted  at  the 
time,  and  which  were  much  admired  in  every  part  of  the 
Union."  The  speech  is  lost,  but  it  is  still  remembered  in  Ports- 
mouth, that,  from  the  moment  of  its  delivery,  Mr.  Webster 
was  at  once  acknowledged  as  the  first  man  of  the  city,  and  the 
leading  spirit  of  New  Hampshire. 

Those  popular  assemblies  were  frequent ;  they  everywhere 
demanled  tin  attendance  of  Mr.  AVebster ;  and  though  all  the 


130  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

public  speeches  delivered  by  him,  at  this  period,  are  gone  be- 
yond recovery,  one  of  them  was  listened  to  by  an  intelligent 
traveler,  who  has  given  of  it  a  very  readable  description 
"  His  carriage  was  brought  to  the  door,  and  he  was  about  to 
get  into  it,  when  the  hostler  said,  '  Sir,  are  you  going  to  leave 
town  1  Mr.  Webster  is  to  speak  to-night.'  Finding  all  classes 
so  delighted  that  Mr.  Webster  was  going  to  speak,  he  ordered 
his  horses  to  the  stable,  and  put  off  his  journey  till  the  morrow. 
At  early  candle-light,. he  went  to  the  hall,  where  the  meeting 
was  to  be  held.  It  was  filled  to  overflowing,  but  some  per 
sons,  seeing  him  to  be  a  stranger,  gave  way ;  and  he  found  a 
convenient  place  to  stand.  No  one  could  sit.  A  tremendous 
noise  soon  announced  that  the  orator  himself  had  arrived  ;  but 
as  soon  as  the  meeting  was  organized,  another  rose  to  make 
some  remarks  on  the  object  of  the  meeting.  He  was  heard 
with  a  polite  apathy.  Another,  and  yet  another  came. ;  and  all 
spoke  well ;  but  this  would  not  do ;  and  if  Chatham  himself 
had  been  among  them,  or  St.  Paul,  they  would  not  have  met 
the  expectations  of  the  multitude.  The  admired  orator  at 
length  arose,  and  was  for  a  while  musing  upon  something, 
which  was  drowned  by  a  constant  cheering ;  but  when  order 
was  restored,  he  went  on  with  ^reat  serenity  and  ease  to  make 
his  remarks,  without  apparently  making  the  slightest  attempt 
to  gain  applause.  The  audience  was  still,  except  now  and  then 
a  murmur  of  delight,  which  showed  that  the  great  mass  of  the 
hearers  were  ready  to  burst  into  a  thunder  of  applause,  if  those 
who  generally  set  the  example  would  have  given  an  intima 
tion,  that  it  might  have  been  done;  but  they,  devouring  every 
word,  made  signs  to  prevent  any  interruption.  The  harangue 
was  ended  ;  the  roar  of  applause  lasted  long,  and  was  sincere 
and  heart-felt.  It  was  a  strong,  gentlemanly,  and  appropriate 
speech ;  but  there  was  not  a  particle  of  the  demagogue  about 
it  —  nothing  like  the  speeches  on  the  hustings  to  catch  atten- 
tion. He  di  u\v  a  picture  of  the  candidates,  on  both  sides  of 


A   CANDIDATE  FOR  OFFICE.  131 

the  question,  and  proved,  as  far  as  reason  and  argument  could 
prove,  the  superiority  of  those  of  his  own  choice."  Next  day, 
the  traveler  went  on  his  journey,  and  found  to  his  surprise, 
that,  though  there  was  then  no  telegraph,  the  fame  of  the 
speech  had  everywhere  preceded  him. 

It  was  at  this  election,  during  the  month  of  November,  1812, 
after  the  war  had  been  declared  by  the  Madison  congress 
against  England,  that  Mr.  Webster  first  suffered  himself  to  bf 
brought  forward  as  a  candidate  for  office.  He  had  been  soli 
cited  before ;  but  he  had  invariably  and  positively  declined. 
Now,  however,  there  seemed  to  be  a  crisis,  a  crisis  in  the  af- 
fairs of  the  whole  nation.  The  two  great  measures,  which  had 
been  carried  through  by  the  democratic  party,  the  embargo 
and  the  war,  had  brought  the  Union  to  the  brink  of  a  dissolu- 
tion. New  England,  which  scarcely  had  a  business,  or  any 
means  of  self-support,  when  she  was  token  from  the  sea,  though 
loyal  to  the  .  constitution  and  the  Union,  indulged  the  feelings 
toward  the  administration,  and  toward  the  measures  of  the  ad- 
ministration, which  a  hungry  population  are  likely  to  have 
against  those  who  make  them  starve  ;  and  the  southern  States, 
which  depended  on  New  England  shipping  to  carry  their  sugar, 
their  cotton,  their  tobacco,  and  their  rice  to  market,  and  to 
bring  back  to  the  producers  such  commodities  as  were  abso- 
lutely necessary  in  the  working  of  their  plantations,  and  for  the 
comfort  of  their  homes,  went  so  far  beyond  their  New  En- 
gland brethren  as  to  talk  of  opposition  to  the  general  govern- 
ment. Both  sections  were  opposed  to  the  war ;  and  many  of 
the  federal  party  were  so  violently  against  it,  as  to  withdraw 
from  it  their  support  even  after  it  had  been  declared.  Web- 
ster, though  sympathizing  with  the  opposition,  and  regarded 
as  a  member  of  the  federal  party,  would  not  desert  the  coun- 
try, nor  the  cause  of  the  country,  though  he  certainly  looked 
upon  the  war  with  no  favoring  eye.  Since  war  had  been  de- 
clared, congress,  he  maintained,  and  the  people,  ought  to  sus- 

VOL.  i.  F*  9 


132  WEBSTER    AXD    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

tain  it  as  long  as  it  must  continue ;  but  an  honorable  peace,  he 
likewise  maintained,  should  be  accepted  as  soon  as  it  should  be 
offered,  and  offered  as  soon  as  there  should  be  a  possibility  of 
its  being  accepted.  Peace  he  regarded  as  the  organic  policy 
of  this  country  ;  and  he  saw  no  good  reason  why  England,  then 
struggling  for  her  life  against  an  atheistical  and  imperial  tyr 
anny,  which  was  now  finally  supported  by  the  pope  and  by  the 
papal  church,  should  not  be  eager  to  terminate,  in  a  manner 
honorable  to  both  countries,  a  needless,  a  voluntary,  and  an 
unnatural  war,  against  a  people  speaking  the.  same  language, 
cherishing  the  same  customs,  boasting  of  the  same  principles, 
and  serving  by  the  same  worship  the  same  God. 

Standing  thus  between  the  extremes  of  both  parties,  he  ap- 
peared before  the  citizens  of  his  district  as  a  candidate  for  the 
lower  house  of  congress ;  and  the  result  showed,  that,  though 
he  had  been  manly  enough  to  stand  alone,  at  the  very  begin- 
ning of  his  career,  when  weak  minds  are  always  the  most  sec- 
tarian and  violent  in  their  zeal,  his  reputation  at  home,  his  abil- 
ities, and  his  exertions  had  been  sufficient  to  conquer  his  own 
party,  and  to  rout  the  ultra-partisans  of  the  administration  on 
their  chosen  field.  The  people,  trusting  in  his  honesty  and  tal- 
ents, rallied  round  him  ;  and,  after  a  spirited  canvass,  he  and  his 
entire  ticket  were  triumphantly  elected. 

According  to  the  established  custom,  in  a  time  of  peace,  Mr. 
Webster  would  not  have  taken  his  seat  at  Washington  before 
the  month  of  December  of  the  succeeding  year;  but  there  was 
now  a  war  upon  the  hands  of  the  administration  ;  and  the  pre- 
sident called  an  extra  session  to  be  opened  in  the  month  of 
May.  Early  in  that  month,  therefore,  after  spending  the  whole 
winter  in  studying  and  reviewing  the  condition  of  the  country, 
and  preparing  himself  ibr  his  new  duties,  he  left  Portsmouth 
for  the  captital  of  the  nation.  His  journey  he  has  often  Je- 
seribed  for  the  amusement  of  the  private  circle ;  and  his  ac- 
count ne^ei  failed  to  create  convulsions  of  laughter  among  th» 


REPRESENTATIVE    TO    CONGRESS. 

• 

gravest  of  his  auditors.  How  he  went  from  Portsmouth  tc 
Boston  in  an  old  mail  coach,  at  the  rate  of  four  miles  the  hour  ; 
how  he  rumbled  and  jerked  along  from  Boston  over  to  Hart- 
ford ;  how,  from  Hartford,  he  "worked  his  passage"  round  by 
land,  a  long  and  weary  way.  first  to  New  Haven,  and  then  to 
New  York  city  ;  how  he  progressed,  day  after  day,  through  the 
state  of  New  Jersey,  stopping  a  night  with  Governor  Stockton, 
where  they  talked  over  the  prospect  of  one  day  making  por- 
tions of  the  trip  by  water ;  how  he  made  his  way  into  Phila- 
delphia in  a  big  wagon,  and  thence  to  Baltimore,  and  from 
Baltimore  to  Washington,  through  many  perils ;  and  how,  af- 
ter nearly  two  weeks  of  laborious  travel,  he  found  himself,  on 
the  24th  of  May,  at  the  seat  of  government,  in  no  plight  to 
stand  before  the  assembled  wisdom  of  the  nation — all  these 
things  he  would  picture  out.  as  no  other  man,  in  his  day,  could 
oicture  anything.  The  classic  reader  may  have  wondered,  pro- 
bablv,  how  the  Greek  poet  could  have  made  so  long,  so  com- 
plicated, so  rich  and  beautiful  an  epic,  out  of  a  mere  voyage  of 
a  few  hundred  miles  from  Troy  to  Italy.  It  is  not  the  amount 
of  materials,  however,  that  decides  what  can  be  said  by  a  man 
of  genius ;  and  no  man,  not  even  Homer,  could  make  more 
amusement,  or  more  instruction,  out  of  such  matter  as  hap- 
pened to  fall  to  him,  than  Daniel  Webster.  No  person,  who 
never  heard  him  tell  an  anecdote,  can  realize  what  an  amount 
of  merriment  he  was  accustomed  to  draw  out  of  his  first  trip 
to  Washington. 

The  young  representative  of  New  Hampshire  might  well  think 
of  his  personal  appearance,  when  about  to  take  his  place  as  a 
member  of  the  memorable  war  congress.  He  had  never  been 
a  member  of  a  legislative  body.  He  had  never  held  a  publio 
office.  He  had  leaped  over  all  the  steps,  which  ordinarv  men 
have  to  take,  in  their  ascent  to  high  positions,  and  found  a  seat  in 
the  supreme  council  of  his  country.  He  was  to  meet  there 
men,  whose  fame  was  as  wide  as  the  Union,  and  whose  talents 


134  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

• 

were  respected  in  other  countries.  It  is  said,  however,  by  those 
who  remember  the  day,  that,  in  spite  of  the  imposing  noveltj 
of  the  scene,  in  spite  of  his  comparative  youth  and  inexpcii- 
ence,  when  he  first  entered  the  hall,  he  walked  as  calmly,  as 
unhesitatingly,  and  with  as  much  dignity  and  self-possession,  as 
he  ever  did  in  those  days  when  he  was  the  acknowledged  prince 
of  congress.  The  truth  is,  he  was  a  prince,  and  more  than  a 
prince,  by  nature ;  and  his  whole  aspect,  and  every  movement, 
were  the  noble  and  dignified  expression  of  a  noble  and  digni- 
fied mind. 

Though  his  first  appearance,  and  the  manner  of  his  entrance, 
are  thus  remembered  by  a  single  witness  or  two,  who  knev 
something  of  him,  to  the  majority  of  the  members,  and  tc 
nearly  all  of  them,  he  entered  there  a  perfect  stranger. .  The 
old  members  were  well  acquainted  with  each  other ;  but  the 
New  Hampshire  representative  was  a  new  member,  and  they 
did  not  know  him.  His  name  they  may  have  seen  in  the  elec 
tion  returns,  or  in  the  printed  lists  in  the  metropolitan  newspa 
pers ;  but  the  name,  at  that  time,  carried  nothing  with  it,  either 
personal  or  historical,  to  attract  notice.  All  that  it  now  means; 
in  law,  in  politics,  in  congress,  throughout  the  country,  and  over 
the  face  of  the  civilized  world,  and  especially  wherever  the 
English  language  is  spoken  or  read,  has  since  been  added  to  it 
What  it  now  meant  was  simply  that  it  was  the  name  of  a  young 
man  who  had  come  to  the  lower  house  from  a  certain  locality 
in  New  Hampshire.  The  person,  however,  who  bears  the  un- 
known name,  is  now  among  them.  He  is  one  of  them.  He 
meets,  there,  it  is  true,  a  few  old  friends,  arid,  among  the  rest, 
his  special  friend,  Governor  Gore,  of  Boston  ;  but  the  governor, 
though  proud  of  his  distinguished  pupil,  and  ready  enough  to 
give  him  introduction,  is  too  disci'eet  a  man,  though  he  had  pro- 
nounced a  eulogy  and  a  prophecy  of  him  on  a  previous  occa- 
sion, and  at  a  very  proper  time,  to  pronounce  any  eulogies,  or 
to  utter  any  prophecies  at  this  time.  He  leaves  him  to  make 


ON    THE    COMMITTEE    OF    FOREIGN    RELATIONS.  135 

his  own  introduction,  and  his  own  impression,  in  his  own  time 
and  way,  but  certainly  with  a  secret  anticipation  of  a  great  day, 
and  of  a  heart-felt  joy,  whenever  that  introduction,  and  that 
impression,  should  chance  to  come.  That  the  time  would  come, 
for  the  fulfillment  of  his  own  prophecy,  and  that  before  the 
members  would  be  prepared,  the  governor  felt  perfectly  as- 
sured ;  but  when,  or  in  what  manner,  could  hardly  be  divined 
from  what  was  seen  of  the  young  man  on  that  day.  There  he 
sits,  in  his  own  seat,  quietly  though  not  carelessly,  giving  such 
attention  to  the  opening  business  of  the  house,  as  only  a  great 
mind,  full  of  strong  thoughts  and  conscious  of  power,  can  give. 
Some  are  constantly  getting  up  from  their  seats,  and  sitting 
down  again,  in  a  restless  anxiety,  or  because  their  heads  have 
nothing  in  them  weighty  enough  to  hold  them  down.  Ot!  ers, 
all  over  the  hall,  are  starting  little  motions,  followed  by 
little  speeches,  by  which  ordinary  minds  expect  to  acquire  a 
sort  of  prominence,  and  all  the  prominence  they  can  expect,  at 
the  opening  of  such  assemblies.  Others,  not  so  quick  at  this 
sort  of  gaming,  but  eager  in  their  own  way,  are  moving  about 
among  the  members,  ostensibly  as  very  social  and  well-mean- 
ing gentlemen,  but  really  picking  up  from  the  fraternity  a  little 
private  capital  for  private  purposes.  When  the  hammer  of 
the  clerk  comes  down,  and  the  call  is  made  to  cast  the  votes  for 
speaker,  on  the  decision  of  which  question  hang  an  unknown 
number  of  little  private  expectations,  and  perhaps  as  many  pri- 
vate promises,  the  fulfillment  of  which  are  the  sole  or  main  re- 
liance of  many  a  dandiprat  politician,  for  the  entire  coming  ses- 
sion, there  is  something  of  a  sensation,  and  many  a  little  cloud 
of  anxiety  may  be  seen  on  the  faces  of  many  of  the  members. 
The  young  representative  from  New  Hampshire,  however,  still 
keeps  quiet  in  his  seat ;  and  none  of  these  dapper  little  states- 
men trouble  him  with  their  attentions,  because  none  of  them 
chance  to  know  him.  As  the  ballots  are  being  collected,  which 
will  shortly  decide  who  is  to  be  the  speaker,  the  second  great 


136  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER  PIECES. 

question  is  busily  discussed  in  loud  whispers,  as  to  the  per- 
sons who  are  to  fill,  under  this  speak  er.<hip,  or  unler  that,  the 
committee  of  foreign  relations,  which,  in  a  time  of  war,  is  tho 
first  committee  of  the  house.  The  ballots  are  now  collected; 
they  are  counted  ;  and  it  is  announced  that  Henry  Clay,  then 
somewhat  noted  as  the  rising  orator  of  Kentucky,  is  elected 
speaker.  In  a  short  time  afterwards,  a  time  short  enough  to 
show  that  the  speaker's  mind  has  been  made  up  beforehand, 
with  the  others  the  leading  committee  is  announced,  which  em- 
braces the  names  of  Calhoun,  Grundy,  Jackson,  Fish,  and  the 
elder  Ingersoll,  all  of  them  men  of  the  first  position  ;  and 
among  these  names,  well  known  to  every  representative,  and 
to  all  the  country,  the  new  members  read,  many  of  them  for 
the  first  time,  perhaps,  in  this  august  fellowship,  the  name  of 
one  Daniel  Webster,  of  New  Hampshire. 

This,  certainly,  would  be  generally  considered,  and  has  been 
often  spoken  of,  as  a  most  auspicious  beginning  for  the  first  day 
of  a  long  public  life ;  but  it  is  this  very  circumstance,  this  promis- 
ing first-day,  that  has  raised  against  Mr.  Webster  the  most  del- 
eterious political  reproach,  which  his  opponents  have  uttered 
against  him  as  a  public  character.  It  is  laid  up  against  him  as 
proof  of  his  political  inconstancy.  It  is  said,  and  said  with 
great  emphasis,  that  he  was  appointed  to  this  committee  by 
Mr.  Clay,  the  leader  of  the  war  movements  in  the  lower  house, 
as  a  friend  to  the  war,  as  a  friend  to  the  Madison  administra- 
tion, but  that,  having  secured  the  prominence  he  wanted,  or  not 
being  able  to  secure  it,  in  the  face  of  Mr.  Clay's  popularity,  he 
turned  over  and  became  a  violent  enemy  of  both.  This  charge, 
however,  is  utterly  unfounded  and  untrue.  Mr.  Webster  wras 
never  a  friend  of  the  war.  and  never  a  friend  of  the  Madison 
administration,  or  of  the  Madison  policy,  before  his  election  to 
congress,  or  after  it.  His  position  was  clearly  this,  that,  while 
he  was  opposed  to  the  war  in  itself,  he  felt  bound  to  stand  by 
the  country,  alei  the  war  had  been  declared,  and  to  carry  both 


ON    WHAT    TERMS    APPOINTED.  137 

the  country  and  the  war  safely  through.  W^r  had  been  de- 
clared by  congress ;  the  declaration  had  become  the  law  of  the 
land  ;  he  was  bound,  as  every  good  citizen  was  bound,  and  par- 
ticularly as  every  representative  of  the  people  v/as  under  spe- 
cial obligation,  to  obey  and  carry  out  the  law  while  it  remained 
a  law  ;  but,  it  cannot  be  forgotten,  it  cannot  be  denied,  that, 
from  first  to  last,  Mr.  Webster  was  the  leading  advocate  of 
peace,  of  seeking  and  of  making  peace  with  England,  so  soon 
as  peace  could  be  obtained  on  right  terms.  He  was,  therefore, 
both  a  war  man  and  a  peace  man  at  the  same  time,  each  with- 
out ambiguity,  and  both  without  contradiction.  He  was  op- 
posed co  the  declaration  of  war  against  Great  Britain  ;  but  he 
was  a  friend  to  his  country,  as  he  was  always  a  friend  to  it, 
whether  in  war  or  peace.  He-  stood  by  her  in  her  troubles, 
e^en  when  they  were  brought  upon  her  by  those  whose  posi- 
tions and  policy  he  opposed. 

On  these  terms,  therefore,  and  in  this  sense,  Mr.  Webster  was 
a  friend  to  the  war,  which  he  found  on  the  hands  of  the  Madison 
administration,  when  he  entered  congress ;  and  it  was  as  such  a 
friend,  and  no  other,  that  he  was  put  into  the  war  committee, 
the  committee  of  foreign  affairs,  by  Mr.  Clay.  Mr.  Clay  and 
the  administration  soon  learned,  however,  that  the  member 
from  New  Hampshire  was  nof  a  man  to  be  influenced  impro- 
perly by  his  position,  or  by  a  gift  of  place.  His  associates  of 
the  committee  learned  the  same  fact  in  an  equally  short  space 
of  time ;  for,  on  taking  his  seat  with  the  committee,  after  the 
older  members  had  pretty  freely  expressed  their  several  views, 
and  had  as  freely  conceded,  as  a  matter  not  to  be  debated,  that 
the  war  was  right,  Mr.  Webster  wished  to  be  informed  di- 
rectly and  distinctly  the  ground  on  which  the  war  had  been  de- 
clared. "  lie  had  heard  a  great  many  grounds  stated,"  he  said, 
"  but  he  desired  to  know  exactly  what  was  the  true  ground,  the 
precise  point  on  which  the  administration  relied,  and  on  which 
the  country  was  then  and  ever  afterwards  to  rely,  as  the  actual 


138  WEBSTER   AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

casus  belli,  as  the  sufficient  reason  and  cause  of  the  dec'ara 
tion.'  This,  certainly,  was  like  Mr.  Webster.  It  was  going 
to  the  bottom  of  his  business  at  the  outset ;  but  it  was  soon 
discovered,  that  it  was  easier  to  ask  the  question  than  to  an- 
swer it.  A  great  deal  of  explanation,  of  opinion,  of  discussion, 
as  any  one  may  imagine,  must  have  ensued ;  but  it  was  finally 
agreed,  by  a  general  concurrence  of  the  members,  that  the 
great  fact,  which  gave  a  basis  to  the  war  with  England,  was  her 
orders  in  council,  by  which  she  laid  an  embargo  on  the  French 
ports,  and  reclaimed  her  seamen  and  citizens,  who  had  de- 
serted her  in  her  time  of  need.  This  did  not  entirely  satisfy 
Mr.  Webster.  The  claim  set  up  to  a  sort  of  ownership  of  her 
seamen  and  subjects,  he  regarded  as  one  of  those  points  in  the 
law  of  nature,  which  had  not  been  sufficiently  determined  and 
settled  in  the  law  of  nations ;  the  leading  nations  of  the  earth 
had  not  been  uniform  in  their  practice  respecting  it ;  the  ma- 
jority of  them,  however,  had  been  in  the  habit  of  setting  up 
•  some  such  claim  ;  and  there  was,  therefore,  so  far  as  this  point 
was  concerned,  Mr.  Webster  thought,  a  fit  subject  for  deliber- 
ate study,  for  a  more  definite  understanding  among  nations,  and 
for  a  deeper  and  even  final  diplomatic  investigation  and  ar- 
rangement by  this  country  and  Great  Britain.  His  own  opinion 
was,  however,  that  the  claim  of  England  was  not  well  founded. 
He  thought  that  the  citizen  of  any  country  had  a  right,  at  his 
own  option,  and  in  his  own  time,  to  transfer  his  allegiance,  his 
citizenship,  to  another  country.  That  was  the  citizen's  right  by 
the  law  of  nature.  It  was  a  right  growing  out  of  what  we,  in 
this  country,  have  established  as  the  great  right  of  personal  lib 
erty  and  independence.  This  latter  right,  however,  was  not  es- 
tablished, was  not  acknowledged,  and  never  had  been  acknowl- 
edged, in  the  countries  of  Europe.  It  had  not  been  acknowl 
edged  in  Great  Britain ;  and  Mr.  Webster,  though  ready  to 
make  it  a  question,  and  a  question  not  to  be  avoided  or  eva- 
ded, between  us  and  England,  until  it  should  be  settled,  waa 


STARTS    GREAT    QUESTIONS.  130 

slow  to  regard  it  as  a  sufficient  justification  for  a  hasty  war 
with  a  kindred  people,  whose  language,  whose  laws,  whose  re- 
ligion, whose  national  interests,  wero  almost  identical  with  our 
own.  He  honestly  and  firmly  believed,  that  England,  so  soon 
as  she  should  be  free  from  the  danger  that  impended  ovei  her 
existence,  would  see  it  to  be  her  interest,  and  would  be  willing, 
not  only  to  settle  the  claim  on  a  just  and  satisfactory  basis,  but 
give  us  ample  satisfaction  for  every  instance  in  which,  to  our 
detriment,  it  had  been  abused.  In  one  well  known  case,  and 
in  several  not  so  generally  understood,  she  had  already  done 
so ;  and  Mr.  Webster  argued,  that  this  country  might  have 
charitably  presumed,  for  the  time  at  least,  till  the  momentous 
European  struggle  of  national  existence  against  usurpation 
should  be  over,  upon  a  continuance  of  a  similar  disposition, 
until  the  contrary  should  be  established  by  sufficient  evidence. 

This,  however,  was  only  one  branch  of  Mr.  Webster's  argu- 
ment. There  was  another  equally  truthful,  equally  cogent,  and 
still  more  troublesome  to  meet.  America  had  declared  war 
against  England,  because  England  had  passed  her  orders  in 
council,  and  blockaded  the  ports  of  France.  But  France,  it 
was  urged  by  Mr.  Webster,  had  done  the  same  thing,  and  was 
the  original  transgressor.  England  had  passed  her  orders  only 
in  self-defease.  If  a  war  was  to  be  declared  against  England, 
therefore,  why  had  not  one  been  declared  before,  or  at  the  same 
time,  against  France  1  France,  too,  had  followed  up  her  Ber- 
lin decree  by  another  and  a  worse  one  dated  at  Milan.  Why 
had  not  these  produced  a  declaration  of  war  by  the  United 
States  1  This  question  Mr.  Webster  urged  upon  the  commit- 
tee ;  and  it  was  replied  that  the  French  decrees  had  been  re- 
voked. But  when,  at  what  particular  time,  had  they  been  re- 
voked ?  This  question  brought  after  it  a  difficulty.  The  con? 
mittee  could  not  tell.  The  date  of  the  revocation  was  April 
28th,  1811  ;  it  had  been  handed  to  our  minister  at  Paris,  it 
was  said,  and  sent  to  the  French  minister  at  Washington,  but 


140  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    M.YSTEI5-PIECKS. 

had  not  been  communicated  to  our  government  till  the  month 
of  May,  1812.  There  was  a  mystery  in  the  whole  proceeding. 
The  proceeding  looked  very  much  like  a  fraud.  There  seemed 
to  be  a  good  chance  to  doubt,  that  an  instrument  of  such  im- 
portance could  have  been  left  to  lie  in  the  drawers  of  the  Amer- 
ican minister  at  Paris,  or  in  those  of  the  French  minister  at 
Washington,  as  though  it  had  been  an  almost  useless  roll  of  paper, 
which  it  was  only  necessary  to  preserve.  Had  not  the  docu- 
ment, which  had  been  really  and  officially  presented  to  the 
United  States,  in  the  month  of  May,  1812,  been  dated  back- 
ward by  the  French  government  to  the  28th  of  April,  1811  ? 
And  had  not  the  administration,  to  excuse  its  declaration  of  war 
against  England,  while  it  remained  at  peace  with  France,  been 
a  party  to  this  contrivance  ?  As  to  that,  Mr.  Webster  could 
not  tell.  The  committee  could  not  inform  him.  So,  deter- 
mined not  to  take  a  step  until  he  should  know  on  what  he  was 
to  stand,  or  on  what  was  to  be  his  reliance  for  a  foothold,  he 
resolved  to  appeal  from  the  committee  to  the  house,  and 
through  the  house  to  the  administration,  for  some  light  upon 
this  mysterious  subject.  Therefore,  on  the  10th  of  June,  1813, 
after  he  had  been  a  member  of  congress  about  two  weeks,  he 
rose  in  his  place,  and  moved  a  series  of  resolutions,  which  went 
to  the  bottom  of  the  whole  subject,  and  which  took  the  mem- 
bers by  surprise.  The  resolutions  were  the  following  : 

"Resolved,  That  the  president  of  the  United  States  be  re- 
quested to  inform  the  house,  unless  the  public  interest  should, 
in  his  opinion,  forbid  such  communication,  when,  by  whom,  and 
in  what  manner  the  first  intelligence  was  given  to  this  govern- 
ment of  the  decree  of  the  government  of  France,  bearing  date 
the  28th  of  April,  1811,  and  purporting  to  be  a  definitive  re- 
peal of  the  decrees  of  Berlin  and  Milan. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  president  of  the  United  States  be  re- 
quested to  inform  this  house,  whether  Mr.  Russell,  late  charge 
d'affaires  of  the  United  States  at  the  court  of  France,  hath 


BASIS    OF   HIS    FIRST    SPEECH.  141 

ever  admitted  or  denied  to  this  government  the  correctness  of 
the  declaration  of  the  Duke  of  Bassano  to  Mr.  Barlow,  the  late 
minister  of  the  United  States  at  that  court,  as  stated  in  Mr. 
Barlow's  letter  of  the  12th  of  May,  1812,  to  the  secretary  of 
state,  that  the  said  decree  of  April  28th,  1811,  had  been  com- 
municated to  his  (Mr.  Barlow's)  predecessor  there ;  and  to  lay 
before  this  house  any  correspondence  relative  to  that  subject, 
which  it  may  not  be  improper  to  communicate ;  and  also  any 
correspondence  between  Mr.  Barlow  and  Mr.  Russell  on  that 
subject,  which  may  be  in  the  possession  of  the  department  of 
state. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  president  of  the  United  States  be  re- 
quested to  inform  this  house,  whether  the  minister  of  France 
near  the  United  States  ever  informed  this  government  of  the 
existence  of  the  said  decree  of  the  28th  of  April,  1811,  and  to 
lay  before  the  house  any  correspondence  that  may  have  taken 
place  with  the  said  minister  relative  thereto,  which  the  presi 
dent  may  not  think  improper  to  be  communicated. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  president  of  the  United  States  be  re- 
quested to  communicate  to  this  house  any  other  information, 
which  may  be  in  his  possession,  and  which  he  may  not  deem 
injurious  to  the  public  interest  to  disclose,  relative  to  the  said 
decree  of  the  28th  of  April,  1811,  and  tending  to  show  at  what 
time,  by  whom,  and  in  what  manner  the  said  decree  was  first 
made  known  to  this  government  or  to  any  of  its  representa- 
tives or  agents. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  president  be  requested,  in  case  the  fact 
be,  that  the  first  information  of  the  existence  of  said  decree  of 
the  28th  of  April,  1811,  ever  received  by  this  government,  or 
any  of  its  ministers  or  agents,  was  that  communicated  in  May, 
1812,  by  the  Duke  of  Bassano  to  Mr.  Barlow,  and  by  him  to 
his  government,  as  mentioned  in  his  letter  to  the  secretary  of 
state,  of  May  12,  1812,  and  the  accompanying  papers,  to  in- 
form this  house  whether  the  government  of  the  United  States 


142  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

hath  ever  received  from  that  of  France  any  explanation  of  the 
reasons  of  that  decree  being  concealed  from  this  government 
and  its  ministers  for  so  long  a  time  after  its  date ;  and,  if  such 
explanation  has  been  asked  by  this  government,  and  has  been 
omitted  to  be  given  by  that  of  France,  whether  this  govern- 
ment has  made  any  remonstrance,  or  expressed  any  dissatisfac- 
tion, to  the  government  of  France,  at  such  concealment." 

Such  were  Mr.  Webster's  resolutions.  The  reading  of  them, 
and  the  defense  made  of  them,  were  the  occasion  of  the  first 
words  he  ever  uttered  in  the  halls  of  congress.  A  weaker  man 
would  have  taken  up,  for  the  first  time,  some  popular  or  trivial 
topic,  which  would  have  given  him  the  opportunity  of  introdu- 
cing himself  to  the  notice  of  the  country.  Mr.  Webster,  on 
the  other  hand,  stood  up  there,  single  and  alone,  a  young  and 
inexperienced  man,  but  a  man  conscious  of  his  power,  to  call 
the  country  to  account  at  the  bar  of  its  own  sober  judg 
ment.  He  called  upon  the  administration  to  tell  the  people, 
and  to  tell  the  world,  why  it  had  gone  to  war  with  England, 
while  it  remained  at  peace  with  France.  He  called  upon  the 
administration  to  inform  the  people,  whether  its  apology,  that 
France  had  revoked  her  decrees  before  war  had  been  declared, 
was  a  well-founded  apology,  or  a  piece  of  conspiracy  between 
Bonaparte  and  itself.  He  called  upon  the  administration  to  say, 
in  so  many  words,  whether  the  revocation  had  not  been  dated 
backward  by  France  with  its  own  connivance  or  consent,  that 
an  apparent  apology  might  be  furnished,  or  whether  the  revo- 
cation had  not  been  bought  of  France  by  the  pledge  of  a  dec- 
laration of  war  against  England  by  the  United  States,  which 
revocation  was  to  be  a  dead  letter,  a  brutum  fulmen,  until  the 
pledge  should  be  redeemed,  and  which  pledge  the  administration 
had  found  it  impossible  to  redeem,  or  to  bind  itself  positively 
to  redeem,  till  a  year  after  the  date  of  the  revocation,  for  which 
this  price  was  promised  to  be  paid.  In  case  it  should  appear, 
as  Mr.  Webster  suspected,  that  •  the  administration  had  never 


INTRODUCTION    TO    THE    SPEECH  143 

heard  of  the  revocation,  till  May  12,  1812,  just  before  the  dec- 
laration, he  called  upon  the  administration  to  convict  itself  still 
farther  by  being  compelled  to  say,  while  it  had  declared  war 
against  England  for  steps  taken  in  self-defense,  whether  it  had 
even  so  much  as  remonstrated  against  the  French  decrees, 
which  were  the  original  and  much  the  more  aggravated  trans- 
gression against  our  interests  and  rights.  In  truth,  he  was  de- 
termined, in  this  direct  and  legitimate  way,  to  compel  the  ad- 
ministration to  make  confession,  either  of  an  unnatural  and 
fraudulent  conspiracy  with  France  against  England,  or  of  an 
equally  unnatural  and  fraudulent  partiality,  in  the  face  of  every 
good  reason  for  an  opposite  partiality,  for  the  imperial,  infidel, 
bloody,  ambitious  and  unscrupulous  government  of  France. 

This,  certainly,  was  a  very  bold  step  for  any  man  to  take ; 
but  it  was  far  bolder,  almost  hazardous,  for  a  young  and  un 
practiced  man,  who  had  taken  the  floor  for  the  first  time,  and 
had  been  a  member  but  about  half  a  month.  Mr.  Webster, 
however,  though  by  no  means  vain  of  his  abilities,  perfectly 
knew  himself.  He  knew  that  it  would  give  him  no  trouble, 
scarcely  any  uneasiness,  to  stand  up  there  and  explain  the  rea- 
sons why  he  sought  the  information  required ;  and  that,  as  he 
understood  the  case,  having  no  thought  of  oratory,  or  of  elo- 
quence, was  all  that  he  had  to  do.  This  he  did  do,  and  that 
with  a  clearness,  a  directness,  a  power,  which  the  oldest  man 
there  had  never  heard  surpassed.  When  he  began  to  speak, 
the  members  prepared  themselves  to  listen,  at  least  during  the 
introduction,  with  that  charity  and  respect  which  they  were  ac- 
customed to  pay  to  a  new  -mtynber  ;  but  the  introduction  was 
too  brief  to  give  them  time  for  all  the  respect  due  on  such  an 
occasion,  and  too  pertinent  to  admit  of  their  letting  go  of  the 
speaker  without  farther  notice  :  Mr.  Webster  rose,  as  he 
said,  "  to  call  the  attention  of  the  House  to  a  subject  of  consid- 
erable importance — a  task  which  he  hoped  would  have  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  some  other  gentleman  better  qualified  than 


144  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

himself  to  undertake  it."  This  single  remark,  followed  by  th' 
reading  of  the  resolutions,  constituted  his  exordium.  "In  offer- 
ing these  resolutions,"  said  the  speaker,  as  he  took 'up  the  sub- 
ject, "  it  was  not  his  intention  to  enter  into  any  discussion  or  ar- 
gument, or  to  advance  any  proposition  whatever,  on  which 
gentlemen  could  adopt  different  views,  or  take  different  sides. 
He  would  merely  remark,  by  way  of  explanation,  what  would 
be  remembered  by  all,  that  the  subjects  to  which  these  resolu- 
tions referred,  were  intimately  connected  with  the  cause  of  the 
present  war.  The  revocation  of  the  orders  in  council  of  Great 
Britain  was  the  main  point  on  which  the  war  turned ;  and  it 
had  been  demanded  for  the  reason  that  the  French  decrees  had 
ceased  to  exist."  This  brief  statement,  in  the  language  of  the 
rhetoricians,  was  the  substance  of  the  exposition,  or  explication, 
of  his  subject.  Then  came  the  narration  of  facts,  necessary  to 
be  had  clearly  in  the  mind  in  order  to  a  fair  view  of  the  great 
topic ;  and  in  this  particular  part  of  aji  oration,  Mr.  Webster 
never  had  his  superior,  and  America  never  saw  his  equal.  A 
full  report  of  the  speech  has  not  been  preserved  ;  but,  judging 
from  the  few  notes  taken  at  the  time,  and  from  what  is  well 
known  of  Mr.  Webster's  manner,  the  historical  statement  was 
not  only  to  the  point  but  brief  and  simple.  The  argument  of 
the  speech  then  came,  and  then  a  brief  but  powerful  applica- 
tion :  "  France,  Mr.  Speaker,  is  a  patriotic  and  revolutionary 
country.  Its  inhabitants  are  a  people  remarkable  for  a  sort  of 
self-dependence  which  disdains  all  reliance  upon  other  countries 
and  other  people.  They  depend,  and  are  determined  to  depend, 
mainly  on  themselves.  Their  language,  their  laws,  their  civi- 
lization, their  destiny,  they  are  accustomed  to  regard  as  entirely 
their  own.  Their  religion,  from  the  days  of  the  Pragmatic 
Sanction,  though  derived  originally  from  abroad,  they  have 
managed,  in  a  great  measure,  to  make  their  own.  Though 
Catholics  in  faith,  they  have  been,  for  a  great  many  years,  anti- 
papal  in  their  government.  The  bishop  of  Rome  has  tried  hard 


FIRST    SPEECH    CONTINUED.  145 

for  centuries  to  extend  his  ecclesiastical  dominion  over  them  ; 
but  they  have  met  his  attempts,  from  first  to  last,  with  nothing 
but  coldness  and  resistance.  Resistance  to  the  papacy,  while 
they  are  perfectly  good  Catholics  in  doctrine,  has  long  been  one 
of  their  ruling  political  dogmas.  But  the  pope  has  never  been 
willing  to  give  up  the  struggle.  He  has  ever  been  as  deter- 
mined to  extend  his  authority  over  France,  as  France  has  been 
determined  to  resist  it.  Thus,  a  long  conflict  has  been  going 
on  between  a  Catholic  people  and  the  head  of  the  Catholic  re- 
ligion. This  conflict,  carried  to  excess  by  both  parties,  has 
gradually  produced  among  the  people  of  France,  especially  in 
the  literary  circles,  a  class  of  men,  who,  knowing  no  other  re- 
ligion but  the  Catholic,  in  their  zealous  opposition  to  the  head 
of  this  religion,  have  matured  their  cause  first  into  an  opposi- 
tion to  the  religion  itself,  and  finally  to  all  religion.  These  are 
the  French  atheists ;  and  they  have  been  able,  by  the  most 
prodigious  and  long-protracted  labors,  to  make  their  cause  the 
cause  of  the  French  people.  They  have  been  able  to  raise,  and 
for  a  series  of  years  to  maintain  in  France,  a  fierce,  bloody  and 
sweeping  revolution.  That  revolution,,  at  first  democratic, 
turned  out  to  be  most  basely  and  disgustingly  tyrannical.  The 
people  themselves  became  at  last  weary  of  it.  At  this  pre- 
cise point  of  time,  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  a  young  French  gen- 
eral,  a  man  of  extraordinary  talents  and  ambition,  rose  up  from 
the  masses  of  the  people,  and  resolved  to  take  the  revolution 
into  his  own  hands  and  use  it  for  his  own  aggrandizement.  So 
successful  was  he,  in  this  undertaking,  that  he  has  been,  now 
for  several  years,  the  master,  the  tyrant,  the  scourge,  in  many 
respects,  of  continental  Europe.  In  his  career  of  triumph,  how- 
ever, the  usurper  meets,  everywhere  and  always,  with  a  check 
at  the  hands  of  England.  England,  therefore,  must  be  hum- 
bled. England  must  be  subdued.  England  must  be  blotted 
from  the  map  of  the  nations.  In  the  field  of  battle,  he  has  thus 
far  been  able  to  meet  her,  to  baffle  her,  and  oftentimes  to  an- 


140  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

nihilate  her  armies.  He  has  thought  that,  on  land,  he  would 
ever  be  able  to  control  her.  But  England  is  emphatically  a 
maritime  country.  She  is  mistress  of  the  ocean.  So  long  as 
she  can  retain  her  superiority  at  sea,  the  ambition  of  the  French 
general,  consul,  emperor,  will  never  succeed  in  the  grand  un- 
dertaking of  universal  empire.  The  commerce  of  England, 
therefore,  out  of  which  grows  her  gigantic  navy,  must  be  crip- 
pled, crushed,  annihilated.  Hence  the  Berlin  decree.  Hence, 
in  opposition  to  the  British  orders  in  council,  which  England 
had  passed  in  self-defense,  the  Milan  decree.  Hence,  carrying 
out  the  same  design,  even  after  the  laying  of  the  Jefferson  em 
bargo,  and  in  defiance  of  it,  the  Bayonne  decree.  Hence  his 
seizure  of  American  shipping  in  French  ports,  and  upon  the 
high  seas.  Hence  the  confiscation  of  millions  of  the  private 
property  of  our  citizens ;  and  hence  all  those  high-handed 
measures  of  the  French  government,  which  have  worked  such 
disaster  to  our  commerce.  In  this  state  of  the  case,  sir,  greatly 
agitated  by  the  defensive  measures  which  England  found  it  ne- 
cessary to  her  existence  to  adopt,  but  entirely  forgetful  of  what 
France  had  done  of  her  own  free  will,  and  that  her  will  might 
have  free  scope  in  the  exercise  of  a  universal  domination,  the 
United  States  have  declared  war,  not  on  France,  which  began 
the  struggle,  which  was  the  first  transgressor,  but  against  Eng- 
land, a  country  making  a  unanimous  and  perilous  effort  to 
maintain  its  own  integrity  and  existence  against  a  man,  who, 
when  he  should  have  finished  Europe,  would  sigh,  like  the  all- 
devouring  Greek,  for  another  world  to  conquer.  And  who 
knows,  sir,  that  that  otherv  world  would  not  be,  will  not  be,  that 
very  country  which  has  thus  far  helped  him  in  his  progress  to 
this  universal  conquest  ?  For  one,  sir,  I  cannot  say  that  these 
United  States  .may  not  be  his  last  field  of  battle.  But  it  is  said, 
sir,  that  Bonaparte  is  a  friend  to  us,  and  that  his  decrees,  neces- 
sary for  a  time,  have  all  been  revoked.  This  is  exactly  the 
point,  sir,  about  which  I  rose  to  seek  information.  It  is  the 


FIRST    SPEECH    CONTINUED.  147 

point  of  inquiry  in  the  resolutions  which  I  have  had  the  honor 
this  day  to  read.  I  wish  to  know,  and  the  country  wishes  to 
know,  when,  by  whom,  and  in  what  manner  those  decrees  have 
been  revoked.  For  one,  sir,  I  never  heard  of  the  revocation 
till  after  the  war  with  England  had  been  declared.  Then  they 
were  produced.  Then  they  were  put  into  the  hands  of  con- 
gress. Then  they  were  published  through  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  country  as  certain  evidence  of  the  generosity  and 
friendly  disposition  of  the  government  of  France.  Now,  sir,  1 
wish  to  know,  and  the  people  of  this  country  wish  to  know,  and 
I  trust  it  is  for  the  honor  of  the  people  and  of  the  government 
to  have  it  known,  whether  this  revocation  was  made  before  or 
after  the  declaration.  If  before,  and  more  than  one  whole  year 
before,  as  is  now  said,  I  wish  to  know  where  it  had  been  during 
all  tliat  time,  and  why  it  was  kept  concealed.  If  after,  let  us 
know,  sir,  and  let  the  people  know,  how  a  declaration  of  war 
could  be  passed  in  this  hall,  and  at  the  instance  of  this  adminis- 
tration, against  Great  Britain,  while  we  remained  at  peace  with 
France.  More  than  this,  it  is  well  known  to  you,  sir,  and  to 
every  gentleman  in  this  house,  that,  even  now,  we  have  the 
letter  of  M.  Champagny,  asserting  the  revocation,  and  a  copy 
of  the  emperor's  address  to  the  free  cities,  on  the  other  hand, 
denying  it.  We  have,  also,  now  before  us,  decisions  of  the 
French  admiralty  affirming,  and  other  decisions  of  the  same 
courts,  repudiating  it.  The  whole  matter,  sir,  is  involved  hi 
darkness  and  needs  light  It  will  be  recollected,  too,  that,  in 
March  last,  the  president  had  communicated  to  congress,  im- 
mediately before  its  adjournment,  certain  correspondence  be- 
tween our  government  and  its  ministers  to  France,  the  promi- 
nent features  of  which  correspondence  was,  that,  in  an  inter- 
view between  our  minister  and  the  French  secretary  for  for- 
eign affairs,  which  took  place  about  the  first  of  May,  1812,  it 
was  stated  by  the  latter  that  the  decree  in  question  had  ^een 
put  into  the  hands  of  our  minister  in  France,  and  transmitted 
VOL.  i.  G  10 


148  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

to  the  French  minister  in  the  United  States,  at  the  time  at 
which  it  bore  date.  Here,  sir,  is  the  chief  mystery.  Now,  if 
this  be  so,  why  was  not  that  decree  published  to  the  world,  at 
least  to  our  fellow-citizens,  that  they  might  know  and  avail 
themselves  of  the  removal  of  this  restriction  from  their  trade 
and  general  business  ?  Why  was  it  not  put  into  the  hands  of 
congress,  as  soon  as  received,  which  was  before  the  declaration 
of  war  with  England,  that  congress  might  act,  in  that  great  cri- 
sis, with  all  the  light  possible  on  a  topic  so  momentous  ?  Right 
here,  sir,  I  am  seriously  puzzled  in  this  matter.  Here  was  a 
congress,  at  the  date  and  sometime  after  the  date  of  that  re- 
vocation, hot  for  a  declaration  of  war  with  England ;  and  there, 
outside  of  these  chambers,  was  an  administration  equally  zeal 
ous,  and  seeking  every  argument  and  pretext  for  the  most  bel- 
ligerent measures.  This  revocation,  however,  which  the  ad- 
ministration affirm  was  in  their  possession  before  the  war,  and 
at  the  time  of  the  declaration,  and  which  would  have  been  the 
weightiest  argument  possible  for  the  war,  was  never  used,  never 
referred  to,  never  hinted  at,  for  this  purpose,  nor  for  any  other 
purpose.  Why  was  it  not  said,  in  reply  to  those  members 
who  accused  the  administration  of  partiality  in  declaring  war 
on  England,  while  remaining  at  peace  with  France,  that  France 
had  revoked,  had  recalled,  had  abolished  all  her  offensive  and 
injurious  decrees,  while  England,  thus  freed  from  the  necessity 
of  keeping  up  her  orders  in  council,  pertinaciously  and  gratui 
tously  maintained  them  ?  Not  a  word,  however,  did  you  hear, 
at  that  time,  about  the  revocation.  The  news  of  the  revoca- 
tion came  afterwards.  It  came  after  the  war.  It  came  at  the 
time  when  an  apology  for  the  war  was  needed  to  quiet  the 
rising  and  growing  opposition  of  our  people.  But,  instead  of 
quieting  their  resentment,  it  has  roused  their  suspicion.  They 
fear  there  is  some  collusion  here.  They  fear  that  the  reputa- 
tion of  the  country  is  at  risk  before  the  world.  They  wish  tc 
know  the  facts  in  the  case ;  and  it  is  merely  for  the  purpose  of 


CONCLUSION  OF  THE  SPEECH.  149 

* 

eliciting  information,  and  giving  it  to  the  people  of  these  states 
that  I  offer  to  you  the  resolutions  which  I  have  had  the  honor 
of  submitting  to  your  consideration.  And,  before  taking  my 
seat,  I  trust  the  house  will  indulge  me  in  adding  to  what  I  have 
already  said,  that  the  reputation  of  a  country,  of  a  whole  peo- 
ple, is  worthy  of  the  deepest  concern,  and  should  claim  at  our 
hands  the  most  grave  and  considerate  attention.  To  maintain 
our  national  honor,  as  a  nation  respected  for  its  fair  and  open 
and  impartial  intercourse  with  all  other  nations,  will  be  worth 
more  to  us,  and  to  our  children,  than  any  number  of  wars,  or 
any  number  of  victories." 

Such,  in  a  condensed  form,  is  the  substance,  according  to  the 
few  notes  taken  of  it  at  the  time  of  its  delivery,  and  according 
to  the  recollection  of  some  who  heard  it,  of  Mr.  Webster's 
maiden  speech  in  congress.  It  was  in  every  way  eminently 
successful.  When  the  exordium,  brief  and  pertinent,  had  been 
disposed  of,  the  members  still  found  themselves  listening,  they 
scarcely  knew  why,  but  probably  because  the  speaker  had  given 
the  impression  that  he  was  a  man  who  had  something  to  say. 
As  he  advanced,  they  listened  with  a  gradually  growing  inter- 
est, because  what  had  been  said  gave  evidence  that  the  person 
speaking  would  be  likely  to  say  something  better  than  they  had 
expected,  and  perhaps  as  well  as  anything  they  had  heard  be- 
fore, on  a  new,  an  exciting  and  important  subject.  The  bold- 
ness of  the  speech  also  had  its  effect  upon  them ;  and  they 
watched  the  young  speaker  the  more  narrowly  to  see  how  he 
would  come  out  of  so  daring  an  undertaking.  Before  he  was 
half  through,  however,  all  speculation  was  over  ;  he  had  mas- 
tered his  position,  had  gained  his  auditors ;  and  nothing  re- 
mained but  a  deeper  and  a  still  deeper  interest,  till  speaker  and 
hearer  were  lost  in  that  indescribable  feeling,  that  all-subduing 
spell,  which  an  oratorical  triumph  always  throws  around  the 
orator,  and  in  the  unbounded  and  equally  unaccountable  horn 


150  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

age,  which  such  a  triumph  always  receives  from  a  willing,  and 
compels  from  an  unwilling,  audience. 

"  In  the  most  splendid  fortune,  in  all  the  dignity  and  pride 
of  power,"  inquires  the  philosophic  Tacitus,  "  is  there  anything 
that  can  equal  the  heartfelt  satisfaction  of  the  able  advocate, 
when  he  sees  the  most  illustrious  citizens,  men  respected  for 
their  years  and  flourishing  in  the  opinion  of  the  public,  yet  pay- 
ing their  court  to  a  rising  genius,  and,  in  the  midst  of  wealth 
and  grandeur,  fairly  owning,  that  they  still  want  something  su- 
perior to  all  their  possessions  ?  "  But  when  we  see  a  man,  a 
young  man,  by  the  simple  power  of  speech,  not  only  gaining 
at  once  the  hearts  of  the  aged  and  the  wealthy,  but  of  such  in 
his  own  profession,  in  his  own  sphere  of  action,  in  spite  of  their 
jealousy  of  a  rival  and  their  dread  of  a'superior,  it  is  a  triumph 
such  as  was  never  enjoyed  by  the  proudest  and  most  fortunate 
of  the  Gesars.  Such  a  triumph  was  that  of  Mr.  Webster.  In 
a  single  day,  in  an  hour,  by  the  force  of  his  own  mind  and 
power,  he  had  sprung  from  positive  obscurity,  so  far  as  the 
country  was  concerned,  not  only  to  a  most  eminent  position, 
but  to  that  of  the  first  orator  in  congress,  and  one  of  the  strong- 
est, boldest,  and  most  reliable  of  our  statesmen.  "At  the 
time  this  speech  was  delivered,"  says  Chief  Justice  Marshall, 
in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  "  I  did  not  know  Mr.  Webster ;  but  I 
was  so  struck  with  it,  that  I  did  not  hesitate  to  state  that  Mr. 
Webster  was  a  very  able  man,  and  would  become  one  of  the 
very  first  statesmen  in  America,  and  perhaps  the  very  first." 
Such,  almost  in  a  day,  became  the  opinion  of  the  country  ;  and 
from  that  day  forward,  intelligent  men,  all  over  the  Union,  as 
they  looked  after  the  proceedings  of  congress,  were  eager  to 
read  every  paragraph,  every  scrap,  that  carried  in  it  the  new 
name  of  Daniel  Webster. 

Mr.  Webster,  however,  did  not  often  gratify  the  public  cu- 
riosity, in  this  respect,  while  a  member  of  the  thirteenth  con 
PV.SS.  It  was  as  much  his  discretion  at  the  beginning  of  his 


A  FRIEND    TO    THE    NAVY.  151 

congressional  career,  as  it  afterwards  became  his  settled  prac- 
tice, not  to  speak  on  every  question,  nor  on  many  questions, 
but  only  on  the  most  important,  and  on  such  only  when  some- 
thing from  his  lips  seemed  to  be  demanded.  Besides  advoca- 
ting the  resolutions  just  mentioned,  which  were  carried  by  a 
heavy  rote,  he  addressed  the  house  on  the  increase  of  the  navy, 
which  he  maintained  had  been  too  much  neglected.  Mr.  Web- 
ster had  always  been,  in  private  life,  a  strong  and  consistent 
advocate  of  a  powerful  navy.  He  was  a  citizen  of  a  country, 
which,  from  Maine  to  Louisiana,  bordered  upon  the  ocean ;  and 
behind  that  ocean,  in  the  interior,  there  was  a  vast  area  of 
soil,  such  as  the  world  could  scarcely  parallel,  and  which  teemed 
with  a  sufficiency  of  agricultural  products  to  give  sustenance  to 
many  nations.  Without  a  navy  of  our  own,  we  could  have  no 
commerce,  because  a  commerce  must  be  protected  ;  without  a 
commerce,  the  abundant  growth  of  this  immense  region  would 
lie  and  rot  upon  the  furrows  where  it  grew ;  and  this  state  of 
things  would  be  the  blight  of  every  kind  of  business,  entailing 
poverty  and  misery  upon  our  population  to  the  end  of  time. 
It  was  for  this  reason  that  he  had  opposed,  as  a  private  man,  the 
embargo  of  Mr.  Jefferson.  It  was  for  this  reason,  mainly,  that 
he  had  opposed  the  policy  of  a  needless  war,  though  he  now 
voted  for  all  the  supplies  demanded  to  carry  it  successfully  for 
ward,  after  it  had  been  unwisely  undertaken.  Both  the  em 
bargo  and  the  war  were  the  end  of  commerce,  while  they  con- 
tinued ;  and  when  there  was  no  commerce,  we  could  make  no 
sales  of  our  surplus  productions,  we  could  reach  no  market, 
though  we  had  everything  to  sell.  If  we  could  not  sell,  we 
could  have  no  money  ;  and,  destitute  of  money,  we  could  have 
no  power  abroad,  no  enterprise  at  home,  but  must  drag  out  a 
wretched  existence  in  weakness,  in  ignorance,  and  in  rags. 
Commerce,  on  the  other  hand,  would  bring  with  it  money, 
power,  business,  enterprise,  intelligence  and  the  general  pros? 


152  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

ptrity  of  the  whole  nation.  This  had  always  been  the  political 
doctrine  of  Mr.  Webster.  It  was  his  doctrine  still : 

"  Le  Trident  de  Neptune  est  le  sceptre  du  Monde." 

This  had  been  the  doctrine  of  Themistocles  at  Athens,  cf  Pom- 
pey  at  Rome,  of  Cromwell  in  England,  and  of  Richelieu  and 
Colbert  in  France.  It  was  the  doctrine  of  nearly  eveiy  far-see- 
ing man  of  this  country,  whose  judgment  had  not  been  ob- 
scured by  a  blind  devotion  to  a  party,  or  to  the  men  of  a 
party.  It  was  the  federal  doctrine  at  that  time,  in  opposition 
to  the  doctrines  and  policy  of  Jefferson,  which  Madison  had 
received  by  dictation  from  his  predecessor,  rather  than  by  the 
convictions  of  his  own  mind. 

Mr.  Webster's  opinion  of  the  war,  and  of  the  measures  of 
the  administration  in  relation  to  it,  was  most  forcibly  expressed 
in  his  speech  on  encouraging  enlistments,  delivered  during  the 
third  session  of  the  thirteenth  congress.  It  will  be  perceived, 
by  the  perusal  of  a  short  extract,  that,  as  an  orator,  he  then 
had  nearly  all  the  point  and  power  of  his  better  days :  "  The 
humble  aid,"  says  the  speaker,  "  which  it  would  be  in  my  power 
to  render  to  measures  of  government,  shall  be  given  cheerfully, 
if  government  will  pursue  measures  which  I  can  conscientiously 
support.  If  even  now,  failing  in  an  honest  and  sincere  attempt 
to  procure  an  honorable  peace,  it  will  return  to  measures  of  de- 
fense and  protection,  such  as  reason  and  common  sense  and  the 
public  opinion  all  call  for,  my  vote  shall  not  be  withholden 
from  the  means.  Give  up  your  futile  projects  of  invasion. 
Extinguish  the  fires  that  blaze  on  your  inland  frontiers.  Es- 
tablish perfect  safety  and  defense  there  by  adequate  force.  Let 
every  man  that  sleeps  on  your  soil  sleep  in  security.  Stop  the 
bl  >od  that  flows  from  the  veins  of  unarmed  yeomanry,  and 
women  and  children.  Give  to  the  living  time  to  bury  and  la- 
ment their  dead  in  the  quietness  of  private  sorrow.  Having 
performed  this  work  of  beneficence  and  mercy  on  your  inland 


HI8    OPINION    OF    THE    WAR.  153 

border,  tun.  and  look  with  the  eye  of  j  istice  and  compassion 
on  your  vast  population  along  the  coast.  Unclench  the  iron 
grasp  of  your  embargo.  Take  measures  for  that  end  before 
another  sun  sets  upon  you.  With  all  the  war  on  your  com- 
merce, if  you  would  cease  to  make  war  upon  it  yourselves,  you 
would  still  have  some  commerce.  That  commerce  would  give 
you  some  revenue.  Apply  that  revenue  to  the  augmentation 
of  your  navy.  That  navy  in  turn  will  protect  your  commerce. 
Let  it  no  longer  be  said,  that  not  one  ship  of  force,  built  by 
your  hands  since  the  war,  yet  floats  upon  the  ocean.  Turn  the 
current  of  your  efforts  into  the  channel  which  national  senti- 
ment has  already  worn  broad  and  deep  to  receive  it.  A  na- 
val force  competent  to  defend  your  coasts  against  considerable 
armaments,  to  convoy  your  trade,  and  perhaps  raise  the  block 
ade  of  your  rivers,  is  not  a  chimera.  It  may  be  realized.  If 
then  the  war  must  continue,  go  to  the  ocean.  If  you  are  seri- 
ously contending  for  maritime  rights,  go  to  the  theater  where 
alone  those  rights  can  be  defended.  Thither  every  indication 
of  your  fortune  points  you.  There  the  united  wishes  and  ex- 
ertions of  the  nation  will  be  with  you.  Even  our  party  divis- 
ions, acrimonious  as  they  are,  cease  at  the  water's  edge.  They 
are  lost  in  attachment  to  the  national  character,  on  the  element 
where  that  character  is  made  respectable.  In  protecting  naval 
interests  by  naval  means,  you  will  arm  yourselves  with  the 
whole  power  of  national  sentiment,  and  may  command  the 
whole  abundance  of  the  national  resources.  In  time  you  may 
be  able  to  redress  injuries  in  the  place  where  they  may  be  of- 
fered ;  and,  if  need  be,  to  accompany  your  own  flag  throughout 
the  world  with  the  protection  of  your  own  cannon." 

Such  was  Mr.  Webster's  opinion  of  the  war,  in  which/  there 
can  be  discovered  nothing  inconsistent  in  itself,  or  opposite  to 
the  opinions  of  his  subsequent  career.  His  course  was  so  clear, 
and  it  had  been  pursued  with  such  extraordinary  ability,  that 
he  had  molded  to  himself  a  majority  of  the  federal  party  be- 


154  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

fore  the  termination  of  his  first  congress.  He  had  so  com 
pletely  gained  the  confidence  of  New  England,  and  particularly 
of  his  own  constituents,  that,  in  August,  1814,  without  raising 
a  finger  for  himself,  he  was  reflected  to  the  house,  from  his 
former  district,  by  a  majority  seldom  witnessed  in  that  part  of 
the  country,  or  in  any  other,  before  or  since. 

The  first  subject,  or  one  of  the  first,  and  decidedly  the  most 
important,  which  Mr.  Webster  met,  on  his  return  to  congress, 
was  the  question  of  a  United  States  bank.  The  reader  will 
remember,  that  the  charter  of  the  first  United  States  bank  had 
expired  between  two  and  three  years  before  the  period  now 
under  consideration.  There  was  no  such  institution  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  war  ;  and  the  war  party,  with  a  few  individual 
exceptions,  had  strongly  advocated  the  rechartering  of  the 
bank,  as  a  fiscal  agent  of  the  government  particularly  essential 
in  transacting  the  heavy  financial  business  which  the  war  had 
devolved,  and  would  always  devolve,  upon  the  administration. 
In  a  season  of  active  hostilities,  it  was  argued,  money  had  to 
be  raised  at  a  moment's  warning;  and  without  the  existence  of 
an  institution  so  large  as  to  be  able  to  render  aid  to  the  gov- 
ernment, in  an  emergency,  great  embarrassments,  perhaps-  dis- 
asters, might  fall  upon  the  common  interests  of  the  country. 
The  constitutionality  of  the  institution  was  based  on  the  pro- 
vision of  the  constitution  giving  to  the  general  government  the 
right  of  coining  money,  which,  of  course,  carried  with  it  the 
regulation  of  the  currency.  On  these  grounds,  and  for  these 
leasons,  a  bill  was  brought  into  the  house,  under  the  lead  of 
Mr.  Madison's  secretary  of  the  treasury,  proposing  to  erect  a 
new  bank,  whose  capital  should  be  fifty  millions.  Forty-five 
millions  of  this  capital  should  consist  of  the  public  stocks.  The 
remainder  was  to  be  in  specie;  but  this  small  amount  of  gold 
•and  silver  being  evidently  inadequate,  the  new  institution  was 
to  be  a  non-spccie-paying  bank,  which  could  send  out  fifty  mil- 
lions of  irredeemable  paper  t<">  deceive  the  confidence  of  the 


THE  DEMOCRATIC  UNITED  STATES  BASK.  155 

people.  In  payment  for  this  immunity,  it  was  to  be  held  un- 
der a  perpetual  obligation  to  loan  the  government  thirty  mil- 
lions of  dollars,  at  any  time  when  demanded. 

Such  was  to  have  been  the  democratic  bank  of  eighteen  hun- 
dred and  fourteen.  It  was  opposed  by  Mr.  Calhoun,  by  Mr. 
Lowndes,  and  by  Mr.  Webster.  Mr.  Webster,  after  listening 
to  the  discussion  of  the  bill  by  the  older  members  for  several 
days,  rose  in  his  place,  on  the  second  of  January,  1815,  and 
moved  that  the  bill  be  recommitted  to  a  select  committee,  who 
should  be  instructed  to  make  the  following  alterations:  "To 
reduce  the  capital  to  twenty -five  millions,  with  liberty  to  the 
government  to  subscribe  five  millions ;  to  strike  out  the  thir- 
teenth section ;  to  strike  out  so  much  of  said  bill  as  makes  it 
obligatory  on  the  bank  to  lend  money  to  government ;  to  in- 
troduce a  section  providing,  that  if  the  bank  do  not  commence 
its  operations  within  the  space  of  a  given  number  of  months, 
from  the  day  of  the  passing  of  the  act,  the  charter  shall  thereby 
be  forfeited  ;  to  insert  a  section  allowing  interest  at  the  rate  of 
a  given  per  cent,  on  any  bill  or  note  of  the  bank,  of  which  pay- 
ment shall  have  been  duly  demanded,  according  to  its  tenor, 
and  refused ;  to  inflict  penalties  on  any  directors  who  shall  issue 
any  bills  or  notes  during  any  suspension  of  specie  payment  at 
the  bank ;  to  provide  that  the  said  twenty-five  millions  of  cap- 
ital stock  shall  be  composed  of  five  millions  of  specie,  and 
twenty  millions  of  any  of  the  stocks  of  the  United  States  hav- 
ing an  interest  of  six  per  cent.,  or  of  treasury-notes ;  and, 
finally,  to  strike  out  of  the  bill  that  part  of  it  which  restrains 
the  bank  from  selling  its  stock  during  the  war."  Such  was  the 
motion ;  and  the  speech  made  in  support  of  it  was  one  of  the 
clearest  specimens  of  argument  ever  listened  to,  even  on  the 
floor  of  congress.  This  very  speech,  however,  and  the  course 
pursued  by  Mi  Webster  at  this  time,  have  been  often  men- 
tioned, by  those  who  either  did  not  know  the  facts  in  the  case, 
or  who  were  interested  not  *o  state  them  as  they  were,  <w  a 
VOL.  i.  G* 


156  WEBSTER    AND    HiS    MASTER-PIECES. 

proof  of  glaring  inconsistency,  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Webster,  as 
a  politician.  They  have  long  been  made  the  basis  of  tho 
charge  of  political  vacillation.  He  is  said,  in  relation  to  the 
bank,  as  in  relation  to  the  war,  to  have  set  out  on  democratic 
principles  to  become  a  federalist  at  last.  He  began,  they  say, 
by  supporting  the  war  and  opposing  the  United  States  bank ; 
but  he  afterwards  changed  sides  respecting  both.  So  far  as  the 
war  is  concerned,  his  course  has  now  been  set  forth;  and  it  is 
equally  easy  to  acquit  him  of  all  inconsistency  in  relation  to 
the  bank.  No  one  need  go  beyond  the  first  three  paragraphs 
of  his  speech  :  "  However  the  house  may  dispose  of  the  mo- 
tion before  it,"  says  the  still  youthful  orator,  "  I  do  not  regret 
that  it  has  been  made.  One  object  intended  by  it,  at  least,  is 
accomplished.  It  presents  a  choice ;  and  it  shows  that  the  op- 
position which  exists  to  the  bill  in  its  present  state  is  not  an  un- 
distinguishing  hostility  to  whatever  may  be  proposed  as  a  na- 
tional bank,  but  a  hostility  to  an  institution  of  such  a  useless 
and  dangerous  nature  as  it  is  believed  the  existing  provisions  of 
the  bill  would  establish. 

"  If  the  bill  should  be  recommitted,  and  amended  according 
to  the  instructions  which  I  have  moved,  its  principles  would  be 
materially  changed.  The  capital  of  the  proposed  bank  will  be 
reduced  from  fifty  to  thirty  millions,  and  will  be  composed  of 
specie  and  stocks  in  nearly  the  same  proportions  as  the  capital 
of  the  former  bank  of  the  United  States.  Tho  obligation  to 
lend  thirty  millions  of  dollars  to  government,  an  obligation 
which  cannot  be  fulfilled  without  an  act  of  bankruptcy,  will  be 
struck  out  The  power  to  suspend  the  payment  of  its  notes 
and  bills  will  be  abolished,  and  the  prompt  and  faithful  execu- 
tion of  its  contracts  secured,  as  far  as,  from  the  nature  of  things, 
it  can  be  secured.  The  restriction  on  the  sale  of  its  stocks  will 
De  removed ;  and,  as  it  is  a  monopoly,  provision  will  be  made 
that,  if  it  should  not  commence  its  operations  in  a  reasonable 
time,  the  grant  shall  be  forfeited.  Thus  amended,  the  bill 


HIS    OBJECTIONS    TO    SUCH    A    BANK.  157 

would  establish  an  institution  not  unlike  tne  last  bank  of  the 
United  States  in  any  particular  which  is  deemed  material,  ex- 
cepting only  the  legalized  amount  of  capital. 

"To  a  bank  of  this  nature,  I  should  at  any  time  be  willing  to 
give  my  support,  not  as  a  measure  of  temporary  policy,  or  as 
an  expedient  for  relief  from  the  present  poverty  of  the  treas- 
ury, but  as  an  institution  of  permanent  interest  and  importance, 
useful  to  the  government  and  country  at  all  times,  and  most 
useful  in  times  of  commercial  prosperity." 

Mr.  Webster,  therefore,  as  is  clear  from  this  quotation,  was 
not  opposed  to  a  bank  of  the  United  States  in  general,  but  to 
that  particular  bank  then  and  there  proposed ;  and  his  objec- 
tions to  the  institution,  as  given  in  the  progress  of  his  speech, 
are  certainly  of  a  very  specific  as  well  as  a  serious  character : 
"  The  bank  which  will  be  created  by  the  bill,  if  it  should  pass 
in  its  present  form,  is  of  a  most  extraordinary,  and,  as  I  think, 
alarming  nature.  The  capital  is  to  be  fifty  millions  of  dollars  ; 
five  millions  in  gold  and  silver,  twenty  millions  in  the  public 
debt  created  since  the  war,  ten  millions  in  treasury-notes,  and 
fifteen  millions  to  be  subscribed  by  government  in  stock  to  be 
issued  for  that  purpose.  The  ten  millions  in  treasury-notes, 
when  received  in  payment  of  subscriptions  to  the  bank,  are  to 
be  funded  also  in  United  States  stocks.  The  stock  subscribed 
by  government  on  its  own  account,  and  the  stocks  in  which  the 
treasury-notes  are  to  be  funded,  are  to  be  redeemable  only  at 
the  pleasure  of  the  government.  The  war  stock  will  be  re- 
deemable according  to  the  terms  upon  which  the  late  loans 
have  been  negotiated. 

"  The  capital  of  the  bank,  then,  will  be  five  millions  of  specie 
and  forty-five  millions  of  government  stocks.  In  other  words, 
the  bank  will  possess  five  millions  of  dollars,  and  the  govern- 
ment will  owe  it  forty-five  millions.  The  bank  is  restrained 
from  selling  this  debt  of  government  during  the  war,  and  gov- 
ernment is  excused  from  paying  until  it  shall  see  fit.  The 


158  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

bank  is  alsc  to  be  under  obligation  to  loan  to  government  thirty 
millions  of  dollars  on  demand,  to  be  repaid,  not  when  the  con- 
v  '.nience  or  necessity  of  the  bank  may  require,  but  when  debts 
due  worn  the  bank  to  the  government  are  paid  ;  that  is,  when 
it  shall  be  the  good  pleasure  of  the  government.  The  sum  of 
thirty  millions  is  to  supply  the  necessities  of  government,  and 
to  supersede  the  occasion  of  other  loans.  This  loan  will  doubt- 
less be  made  on  the  first  day  of  the  existence  of  the  bank,  be- 
cause the  public  wants  can  admit  of  no  delay.  Its  condition, 
then,  will  be,  that  it  has  five  millions  of  specie,  if  it  has  been 
able  to  obtain  so  much,  and  a  debt  of  seventy-five  millions,  no 
part  of  which  it  can  either  sell  or  call  in,  due  to  it  from 
government. 

"The  loan  of  thirty  millions  to  government  can  only  be 
made  by  an  immediate  issue  of  bills  to  that  amount.  If  these 
Mils  should  return,  the  bank  will  not  be  able  to  pay  them. 
This  is  certain  ;  and  to  remedy  this  inconvenience,  power  is 
given  to  the  directors,  by  the  act,  to  suspend,  at  their  own  dis- 
cretion, the  payment  of  their  notes  until  the  president  of  the 
United  States  shall  otherwise  order.  The  president  will  give 
no  such  order,  because  the  necessities  of  government  will  .com- 
pel it  to  draw  on  the  bank  till  the  bank  becomes  as  necessitous 
as  itself.  Indeed,  whatever  orders  may  be  given  or  withheld, 
it  will  be  utterly  impossible  for  the  bank  to  pay  its  notes.  No 
such  thing  is  expected  from  it.  The  first  note  it  issues  will  be 
dishonored  on  its  return,  and  yet  it  will  continue  to  pour  out 
its  paper  so  long  as  government  can  apply  it  in  any  degree  to 
its  purposes. 

"  What  sort  of  an  institution,  sir,  is  this  ?  It  looks  less  like 
a  bank  than  a  department  of  government.  It  will  be  properly 
the  paper-money  department.  Its  capital  is  government  debts' 
the  amount  of  its  issues  will  depend  on  government  necessities 
government,  in  effect,  absolves  itself  from  its  own  debts  to  th« 
bank.  and.  by  way  of  compensation,  absolves  the  bank  fron 


HIS    OBJECTIONS    CONTINUED.  159 

its  own  contracts  with  others.  This  is,  indeed,  a  wonderful 
scheme  of  finance !  The  government  is  to  grow  rich,  because 
it  is  to  borrow  without  the  obligation  of  repaying,  and  is  to 
burrow  of  a  bank  which  issues  paper  without  liability  to  re- 
deem it.  If  this  bank,  like  other  institutions  which  dull  and 
plodding  common  sense  has  erected,  were  to  pay  its  debts,  it 
must  have  some  limits  to  its  issues  of  paper,  and  therefore  there 
would  be  a  point  beyond  which  it  could  not  make  loans  to  gov- 
ernment. This  would  fall  short  of  the  wishes  of  the  contrivers 
of  this  system.  They  provide  for  an  unlimited  issue  of  paper 
in  an  entire  exemption  from  payment.  They  found  their 
bank,  hi  the  first  place,  on  the  discredit  of  government,  and  then 
hope  to  enrich  go\  eminent  out  of  the  insolvency  of  their  bank. 
With  them,  poverty  itself  is  the  main  source  of  supply,  and 
bankruptcy  a  mine  of  inexhaustible  treasure.  They  trust  not 
in  the  ability  of  the  bank,  but  in  its  beggary ;  not  in  gold  and 
silver  collected  in  its  vaults,  to  pay  its  debts  and  fulfill  its  prom 
ises,  but  hi  its  locks  and  bars,  provided  by  statute,  to  fasten  its 
doors  against  the  solicitations  and  clamors  of  importunate  cred 
itors.  Such  an  institution,  they  flatter  themselves,  will  not 
only  be  able  to  sustain  itself,  but  to  buoy  up  the  sinking  credit 
of  the  government.  A  bank  which  does  not  pay  is  to  guar 
ranty  the  engagements  of  a  government  which  does  not  pay ! 
'John  Doe  is  to  become  security  for  Richard  Roe.'  Thus 
the  empty  vaults  of  the  treasury  are  to  be  filled  from  the 
equally  empty  vaults  of  the  bank  ;  and  the  ingenious  invention 
of  a  partnership  between  insol vents  is  to  restore  and  reestablish 
the  credit  of  both  !  " 

This,  certainly,  is  a  splendid  specimen  of  reasoning,  as  well 
as  of  eloquence,  for  a  new  and  inexperienced  member  of  only 
thirty-two  years  of  age.  The  whole  speech  is  like  the  example 
here  given.  It  produced  a  powerful  impression  upon  the  house. 
Though  supported  by  the  leaders  of  the  administration,  as  an 
administration  measure,  at  a  time  when  the  existence  of  war 


160  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

would  naturally  incline  congress  to  favor  any  administration  as 
far  as  possible,  the  bill  for  the  new  bank  was  lost ;  and  that 
would  have  been  the  end  of  it,  in  all  probability,  had  not  Mr. 
Webster  revived  the  subject.  He,  having  voted  against  the 
bill,  moved  a  reconsideration,  which  motion  prevailed ;  and, 
chiefly  from  his  suggestions,  the  bill  was  amended,  and  then 
passed,  by  a  large  majority.  So,  instead  of  having  begun  his 
political  career  by  opposing  the  war  and  the  bank  of  the  United 
States,  he  helped  carry  on  the  one,  because  it  had  been  created, 
and  carried  through  the  other  in  the  lower  house,  though  he 
had  first  to  demolish  a  bad  undertaking  before  he  could  estab- 
lish a  good  one.  This  act  of  demolition  is  the  only  part  of  the 
work  referred  to  by  his  enemies  ;  just  as  his  objections  to  the 
war  are  quoted  as  a  proof  that  he  did  not  support  it ;  but  it  is 
the  duty  of  the  historian,  and  of  the  candid  reader,  to  correct 
both  errors,  and  to  give  the  statesman  the  credit  of  being,  so 
far  at  least,  a  consistent  politician. 

On  his  return  to  New  Hampshire,  to  spend  the  vacation  be- 
tween the  thirteenth  and  the  fourteenth  congress,  he  found  him- 
self, more  than  ever,  the  favorite  of  the  people.  But  he  devoted 
no  time  to  paying  or  receiving  compliments.  He  went  di- 
rectly to  his  office,  to  his  practice,  to  his  studies.  He  was  more 
studious,  in  fact,  than  he  ever  had  been.  Having  realized  the 
value  of  knowledge,  on  the  great  arena  of  practical  and  public 
life,  as  he  could  but  faintly  imagine  it  while  a  student,  he  now 
grasped  after  knowledge  of  every  kind  with  no  juvenile  views 
of  its  importance,  but  with  an  intelligent  and  manly  power. 
He  had  before  laid  down  the  foundations  broad  and  strong. 
He  now  gathered  materials  for  immediate  use ;  and  no  man, 
perhaps,  ever  surpassed  him,  either  in  knowing  what  he  ought 
to  have,  or  in  the  capacity  to  obtain  and  to  keep  what  he 
wanted.  The  laborious  study  of  the  brief  period  now  under 
review,  from  March  to  December  of  the  year  1815,  so  wi- 
dened the  vision,  and  multiplied  the  resources,  and  matured  all 


RENEWAL    OF    HIS    STUDIES.  16.. 

the  faculties  of  Mr.  Webster's  mind,  that,  when  ha  took  his 
place  in  the  fourteenth  congress,  his  friends  welcomed  back  a 
much  stronger  man  than  they  had  parted  from  in  spring.  He 
had  not  been  satisfied,  as  many  of  his  associates  had  been,  with 
the  success,  even  the  unparalleled  success,  of  this  opening  of 
his  career.  Ordinary  men,  who  have  ambition,  mistake  their 
ambition  for  talent,  and  so  trust  to  what  they  think  nature  has 
done  for  them  without  study.  Really  great  men,  having  less 
of  ambition,  and  more  of  sound  judgment,  however  conscious 
of  nature's  gifts,  study  without  cessation,  and  make  their  -de- 
pendence on  their  own  exertions.  It  was  so,  at  this  time  and 
always,  with  Mr.  Webster. 

It  has  been  thought  by  philosophical  historians,  that  the  loss 
of  the  great  library  of  Alexandria,  so  sorely  lamented  by  suc- 
cessive generations  of  scholars,  has  been,  as  it  was  providen- 
tially designed  to  be,  a  blessing  to  the  human  mind.  Contain 
ing,  as  it  doubtless  did,  the  treasures  of  the  world's  learning, 
up  to  that  period,  it  might  have  satisfied  too  long  the  cravings 
of  the  intellect  and  rendered  the  race  intellectually  inactive. 
The  loss  of  this  resource,  therefore,  while  it  swept  away  a  great 
amount  of  knowledge,  may  be  supposed,  very  fairly,  to  have 
brought  the  mind  of  man  to  a  degree  of  independence,  of  thor 
ough  and  healthy  self-reliance,  which,  otherwise,  would  not  have 
been  the  characteristic  and  glory  of  modern  ages.  A  fate,  or  a 
fortune,  similar  to  this,  had  happened,  a  year  or  two  prior  to 
Ahe  period  now  before  us,  to  Mr.  Webster ;  and,  without  any 
loubt,  it  had  exerted  a  most  salutary  influence,  over  and  above 
nis  losses,  upon  the  progress  of  his  education.  In  the  month 
of  December,  1813,  in  a  conflagration  that  occurred  then  at 
Portsmouth,  he  had  been  a  chief  sufferer.  He  had  lost,  in  one 
sad  destruction,  his  house,  his  library,  and  the  notes  and  mem 
oranda  and  other  fruits  of  all  his  former  reading.  All  had  per- 
ished together ;  and,  after  years  of  painful  study  and  laborious 
saving,  he  had  been  thrown,  in  a  single  hour,  naked  and  alone 


162  WEH8TER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

upon  the  world,  thereafter  to  rely,  not  upon  what  he  had  been, 
or  had  known,  or  had  treasured  up  for  use,  but  upon  himself 
as  he  then  was,  and  upon  new  resources  to  be  gathered  up  by 
a  mind  more  than  ever  capable  to  do  its  work.  This,  beyond 
all  question,  was  one  of  the  many  wonderful  events,  which 
seemed  to  follow  each  other,  in  Mr.  Webster's  history,  as  if 
directed  by  the  hand  of  Providence,  that  nothing  might  be  neg- 
lected in  the  development  of  his  great  mind.  And  the  effect 
fully  justified  the  design.  A  common  man  woiild  have  sunk 
under  such  a  disaster  ;  but  Mr.  Webster,  rising  to  the  height 
of  his  necessities,  resolved  not  to  be  a  loser  by  his  mis- 
fortune. From  that  hour,  he  had  studied  with  increased  zeal ; 
he  had  reperused  his  favorite  authors,  and  taken  minutes  of  his 
reading  many  times  more  valuable  than  those  lost  by  the  fire ; 
and  he  now  came  forth,  after  his  two  years  of  unparalleled  la- 
bor, a  man  of  larger  proportions,  better  furnished  and  prepared 
for  the  great  demands  of  life,  than  he  was  or  could  have  been 
with  all  that  had  been  taken  from  him.  As  we  see,  in  com- 
mercial and  growing  cities,  a  valuable  block,  ancient  and  full 
of  treasures,  fall  in  a  day  by  some  sad  calamity,  but  the  next 
day  rise  again,  or  begin  to  rise,  on  a  broader  foundation  and 
with  superior  splendor ;  so  the  loss  suffered  by  Mr.  Webster 
had  been  but  a  momentary  loss,  followed  by  a  breadth  of  effort, 
and  a  towering  of  success,  such  as  he  would  scarcely  have  at- 
tempted  had  he  not  been  thus  roused  to  action.  He  was  not 
a  man  to  be  conquered  by  misfortune. 

Coming,  with  all  this  renewed  preparation,  into  the  fourteenth 
congress,  where  his  former  fame  still  lingered,  he  was  at  once 
the  centre  of  all  eyes,  and  the  hope  of  a  great  and  growing 
party.  The  first  question  he  encountered,  after  his  return,  WHS 
the  question  of  revenue  and  taxation  known  among  politicians 
as  the  tariff.  The  administration,  having  failed  in  the  estab- 
lishment of  their  United  States  bank,  and  having  imposed  upon 
the  country,  by  an  expensive  war,  a  most  onerous  debt,  stood 


OPPOSED  TO  THE  PROTECTIVE  TARIFF.         1(53 

In  need  of  revenue ;  and  the  old  war  party,  therefore,  supported 
by  the  South,  came  forward  with  a  protective  tariff,  which,  it 
was  supposed,  would  serve  the  double  purpose  of  pouring 
money  into  the  exhausted  treasury,  and  of  succoring  those  in- 
fant manufactories,  which  had  started  up  during  the  period  of 
the  embargo  and  the  war.  Pennsylvania,  however,  was  the 
chief  manufacturing  state.  New  England  was  still  devoted  to 
the  sea ;  and,  imagining  that  the  freest  trade  would  bring  the 
largest  business  for  its  ships,  it  was  jealous  of  a  tariff  more  pro- 
tective than  what  was  necessary  for  the  debts  and  expenses  of 
the  government.  To  protection,  for  its  own  sake,  the  New 
England  states  heartily  objected ;  and,  in  making  their  opposi 
tion  to  the  doctrine  of  protection,  which  they  thought  would 
lessen  trade,  and  so  hurt  their  business,  they  looked  for  sup 
port  to  Mr.  Webster.  Nor  did  they  look  in  vain.  Mr.  Webstei 
was  at  this  time  opposed  to  a  high  protective  tariff,  because 
there  were  scarcely  any  manufactures  in  the  country  to  pro- 
tect, and  because  the  protective  policy  was  opposed  to  the 
business  of  his  constituents.  Had  the  manufacturing  interests 
of  the  other  states  been  so  large  as  to  overbalance  the  com- 
mercial interests  of  New  England,  his  large  patriotism  would 
certainly  have  led  him  to  sustain  the  greater  in  preference  to 
the  less.  But  this  was  not  the  case  ;  and  he  could  see  no  rea- 
son why  he  should  vote  his  constituents  out  of  business,  and 
cause  poverty  and  distress  to  his  friends  at  home,  to  foster  a 
much  smaller  interest  abroad.  This,  he  thought,  and  thought 
justly,  would  be  pushing  a  virtue  till  it  became  a  vice.  Ad- 
mitting, therefore,  the  constitutionality  of  a  protective  tariff,  he 
doubted  its  expediency  at  that  time.  The  time  might  come, 
when  the  country  as  a  whole,  or  large  portions  of  it,  would 
wish  to  change  their  natural  business  of  agriculture  and  com- 
merce, of  raising  and  selling  produce,  when  it  would  be  ex- 
pedient, of  course,  to  change  the  policy  of  legislation  IK>  as  to 
meet  any  new  demands  of  business  and  the  altered  wishes 
VOL.  i.  il 


164  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

of  the  people.  But  that  time,  he  thought,  had  not  yet  come. 
The  people,  as  a  whole,  did  not  desire  protection,  and  their 
business,  as  a  whole,  would  be  injured  by  it.  For  these  rea- 
sons, Mr.  Webster  opposed  the  protective  tariff  of  the  four- 
teenth congress  ;  but,  notwithstanding  his  opposition,  which  was 
almost  insurmountable,  the  middle  and  southern  stales  united 
in  its  support  and  earned  it  through. 

Upon  this  opposition,  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Webster,  to  the 
policy  of  the  protective  tariff,  the  old  charge  of  political  vacil- 
lation has  long  been  urged.  The  force  of  the  charge,  if  it  is  to 
have  any  force,  must  rest  on  the  assumption,  that  any  change 
in  a  statesman's  opinions,  between  youth  and  age,  must  of  ne- 
cessity demonstrate  an  inconsistency  of  character.  Is  such  a 
premiss,  in  any  of  the  walks  of  life,  to  be  admitted  1  If  a  man 
is  found  guilty  of  frequent  changes,  the  fact  will  weaken  the 
public  confidence  in  his  judgment.  If  the  many  changes  hap- 
pen also  to  have  been  experienced  suddenly,  the  person's  mo- 
tives are  apt  to  be  suspected.  But  when  a  man's  opinions, 
though  different  at  different  periods  of  his  life,  are  known  to 
have  come  on  gradually,  about  as  much  so  as  the  maturity  of 
manhood  follows  upon  the  immaturity  of  youth,  there  is  evi- 
dence furnished,  not  of  inconsistency,  but  of  consistency,  of  a 
natural  and  healthy  growth  of  mind,  of  the  best  development 
and  discipline  of  the  mental  and  moral  faculties.  No  man, 
whether  citizen,  or  divine,  or  statesman,  should  be  afraid  to 
modify  or  put  off  opinions,  if  he  take  sufficient  care  in  arriving 
at  his  ultimate  conclusions.  But  opinions  may  change  from  a 
change  in  the  things  respecting  which  the  opinions  are  enter- 
tained. In  morals,  in  divinity,  in  the  exact  sciences,  this  state- 
ment will  not  hold  good,  because  right  and  wrong,  the  facts  and 
doctrines  of  religion,  and  the  axioms  and  demonstrations  of 
mathematics,  are  immutable.  It  is  not  so  with  the  practical 
sciences.  It  is  not  so  in  politics.  There  is  no  question  of  le- 
gislation that  is  not  liable  to  fluctuation.  To-day,  it  may  oe 


REASONS    FOR    THAT    OPPOSITION.  165 

expedient  and  politically  right  to  declare  war  against  a  foreign 
nation.     To-morrow,  the  casus  belli  may  be  removed,  which 
fact  would  make  a  declaration  of  war  impolitic  and  immoral. 
To-day,  the  situation  of  a  country  may  require  a  general  bunk 
ing  institution,  and  the  want  of  it  may  be  felt  as  a  public  evil. 
To-morrow,  circumstances  have  changed  ;  nobody  wants  it ;  and 
consistency  requires  of  every  patriot  a  corresponding  change  of 
opinion  and  of  action.     To-day,  there  may  be  no  reasons  tor 
the  establishment  of  a  protective  tariff.     To-morrow,  nothing 
but  such  a  tariff  will  meet  the  altered  demands  of  business. 
Such  changes,  in  fact,  are  common  in  all  countries ;  but  they 
are  a  part  and  parcel  of  the  condition  of  new  settlements.    This 
country,  in  its  first  years,  could  certainly  lay  down  no  general 
maxims  for  all  future  ages.     The  best  that  the  colonies  could 
do  might  have  been  the  worst  thing  for  sovereign  states.     The 
states  themselves,  at  the  commencement  of  their  confederation, 
were  but  so  many  experiments  entering  into  one  grand  experi- 
ment.    Their  origin,  their  government,  their  whole  condition, 
were  without  a  parallel  in  history.     They  could  look  to  no  pre- 
cedents for  wisdom.     New  principles  had  to  be  applied  to  new 
circumstances.     No  dogmatism  would  be  wisdom.     Trials  had 
to  be  made  of  such  general  principles  as  were  at  first  deemed 
best ;  and  these  principles  had  to  be  fitted  slowly,  and  carefully, 
and  with  various  modifications  certainly,  to  the  great  problem 
of  American  free  government.     A  dogged  adherence  to  first 
attempts  would  have  been  the  height  of  folly.     At  a  time, 
when  all  the  manufactories  in  the  United  States  used  less  cap- 
ital than   is  now  used  in  some  of  the  smaller  manufacturing 
towns  of  Massachusetts,  and  less  than  was  then  employed  in 
the  shipping  interests  of  so  inconsiderable  a  sea-port  as  Salem, 
it  might  have  been  reasonably  supposed  by  Mr.  Webster,  that 
he  was  not  called  upon  to  vote  for  a  protective  tariff.     The  facts 
of  the  case,  however,  soon  changed.     The  protective  tariff,  in 
spite  of  his  opposition,  was  carried  and  became  the  policy  of 


106  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

the  country.  Capital  began  at  once  to  be  invested  in  manufac- 
tories. New  England  itself,  finding  but  a  scanty  resource  in 
its  rocky  and  comparatively  unproductive  soil,  soon  entered 
largely  into  this  new  field  of  labor.  By  holding  out  this  legis- 
lative encouragement  to  the  business,  by  which  thousands  of 
citizens  were  led  to  invest  all  their  means  in  this  direction,  gov- 
ernment virtually  pledged  its  faith  not  to  disappoint  or  aban- 
don it.  To  do  so,  as  many  originally  opposed  to  the  policy 
believed,  would  be  a  fraud  upon  the  people,  which  would  tend 
to  unsettle,  not  only  their  business,  but  their  confidence  in  our 
form  of  government,  to  which  not  a  few  still  looked  as  a  doubt- 
ful experiment.  It  would  have  been  a  most  evil  example,  to 
every  citizen,  in  a  way  virtually  to  affect  the  stability  and  even 
the  morality  of  every  individual  in  the  nation.  Mr.  Webster, 
perceiving  the  new  wants  of  the  country  in  this  way  produced, 
and  feeling  the  full  force  of  the  positive  necessity,  that  the 
government  should  forever  keep  its  faith  with  all  men,  and 
particularly  with  our  own  citizens,  not  only  felt  at  liberty,  but 
felt  bound,  in  view  of  these  changes,  from  that  time  to  sustain 
a  policy,  which,  at  first,  he  deemed  inexpedient.  -All  that  can 
be  said  of  him  is,  that  the  whole  country  changed,  in  this  re- 
spect, making  it  patriotic  for  him  to  change  with  it.  What 
was  once  improper  had  become  proper ;  and  he  continued  to 
act  according  to  his  convictions  of  the  existing  though  altered 
demands  of  a  new  and  rapidly  growing  country.  Had  he 
not  done  so,  he  would  not  have  been  a  statesman,  or  a  phi- 
losopher, but  a  bigot.  He  would  never  have  been  Daniel 
Webster. 

The  bill  for  a  United  States  bank,  discussed  and  amended  by 
Mr.  Webster  in  the  previous  congress,  but  lost  in  the  senate,  was 
now  again  brought  forward;  and  he  again  introduced  his  amend- 
ments. He  particularly  opposed,  at  this  second  trial,  that  part 
of  the  bill  which  gave  the  government -a  sort  of  copartnership 
in  the  bank.  He  wished  the  bank  to  be  entirely  independent 


AGAIN  OPPOSES  A  UNITED  STATES  BANK.  167 

of  the  government,  and  the  government  to  be  as  entirely  indepen 
dent  of  the  bai  ik .  He  thought  that  a  direct  and  interested  al  liance, 
on  so  vast  a  scale,  between  the  great  money  holders  of  the  coun 
try  and  the  head  of  the  federal  government,  was  at  least  danger- 
ous, and  might  be  disastrous.  For  the  bill  suitably  amended, 
for  a  bank  properly  and  constitutionally  established,  he  ex- 
pressed a  decided  favor ;  but  he  did  not  think  it  expedient  to 
incorporate  so  large  a  bank  and  then  make  it  virtually  a  de- 
partment of  the  general  government.  His  opposition  had  ef- 
fect ;  and  the  bank  finally  erected  was  very  different  from  the 
bank  concocted  by  the  cabinet  of  the  current  administration. 
He  carried  an  amendment,  "which  required  deposits,  as  well  as 
the  notes  of  the  bank,  to  be  paid  on  demand  in  specie."  But 
the  majority  of  his  amendments  were  rejected  ;  and,  therefore, 
when  the  bill  came  up  on  its  final  passage,  he  voted  against  it. 
It  was  carried,  however,  and  Mr.  Webster  afterwards  became 
its  friend  on  the  same  ground,  and  for  the  same  reason,  that  he 
became  the  friend  of  a  protective  tariff,  after  having  exerted 
himself  against  it.  Once  established,  the  bank  raised  such  ex 
pirtations,  and  gave  such  a  new  direction  to  all  the  capital  of 
the  country,  that  it  could  not  be  abolished  without  great  detri 
ment  to  the  business  of  the  nation.  Mr.  Webster  always  ex 
erted  himself  for  a  settled  policy  ;  and  he  regarded  frequent 
and  sudden  changes  in  the  laws  as  an  evil  to  be  dreaded  and 
avoided,  and  frequently  as  a  greater  evil  than  those  sought  to  be 
remedied  by  a  changeful  legislation.  "  The  old  building  stands 
well  enough."  said  Burke,  "  though  part  Gothic,  part  Grecian,  part 
Chinese,  until  an  attempt  is  made  to  square  it  into  uniformity; 
then  it  may  come  down  upon  our  heads  with  much  uniformity 
of  ruin."  In  this  country,  however,  the  building  is  scarcely  al 
lowed  to  stand  long  enough  to  become  old;  for  our  smaller  poli 
ticians  spend  their  time,  as  children  do,  in  erecting  merely  for 
the  sport  of  tearing  down  again.  Mr.  Webster,  on  the  con 
arery,  through  his  whole  life  labored  to  give  every  great  meas 


108  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

ure,  even  that  to  which  he  had  been  somewhat  opposed,  a  fair 
trial,  rather  than  suddenly  to  reverse  it ;  and  sometimes,  as  in 
the  case  before  us,  he  came  tc  look  upon  a  measure  already 
established  as  so  much  better  than  none  at  all,  or  such  as  could 
be  afterwards  secured,  that  he  became  the  friend  and  supporter 
of  what  he  at  first  did  not  perfectly  approve. 

On  the  26th  of  April,  1816,  Mr.  Webster  introduced  to  the 
house  a  series  of  resolutions,  three  in  number,  respecting  the 
collection  of  the  public  revenue.  For  those  resolutions,  and 
the  speech  delivered  in  advocacy  of  their  passage,  the  whole 
country,  and  particularly  New  England,  owe,  and  will  forever 
owe,  to  Mr.  Webster  a  deep  debt  of  gratitude.  This  one  act 
should  be  enough  to  give  him  a  lasting  reputation  as  a  states- 
man and  a  patriot.  The  war  had  been  carried  through  with 
funds  borrowed  from  the  various  banking  institutions  of  the 
several  states ;  and  these  institutions,  encouraged  by  the  clam- 
oring necessities  of  the  government  greatly  to  extend  their  is- 
sues, had  so  flooded  the  country  with  their  paper,  that,  after 
the  peace,  there  had  been  a  general  suspension  of  specie  pay- 
ments by  the  banks  out  of  the  New  England  states.  The  ad- 
ministration, however,  with  an  improper  partiality,  or  a  still 
more  improper  carelessness,  had  been  able  to  establish  the 
policy,  that  the  revenue  collected  in  any  state  might  be  paid  in 
the  bills  of  tne  banks  of  that  state,  but  not  in  the  bills  of  any 
other  state.  New  England,  for  example,  could  pay  her  cus- 
toms only  in  New  England  bills,  which  were  everywhere  as 
good  as  gold  ;  while  the  other  states  were  permitted  to  pay  !L 
the  bills  of  their  respective  banks,  which,  by  the  suspension, 
had  depreciated  on  an  average  nearly  twenty-five  per  cent,  b 
other  words,  New  England  paid  about  twenty-five  per  ceni. 
more  on  all  goods  imported  by  her — and  she  was  the  chief  im- 
porter— than  the  other  states  did  on  goods  which  they  im- 
ported. In  addition  to  the  exceeding  inequality  and  injustice 
cf  this  course,  it  deranged  the  exchanges  of  the  whole  country 


HIS    SPECIE    RESOLUTION.  169 

by  giving  manifest  support  to  a  system  of  corrupt  and  fraudu- 
lent banking ;  and  there  never  could  have  been,  under  this 
state  of  things,  such  a  currency  as  should  inspire  confidence,  or 
satisfy  the  demands  of  business.  Business  itself  go-js  down,  or 
becomes  hopelessly  embarrassed,  under  such  cii  /umstances. 
It  was  for  this  general  purpose,  therefore,  of  restoring  the  cur- 
rency of  the  country,  and  of  defending  the  rights  of  New  En- 
gland in  particular,  that  Mr.  Webster  offered  his  three  resolu- 
tions on  the  subject.  Two  of  the  resolutions,  which  simply 
contained  declarations  of  principles,  were  withdrawn  at  the 
suggestion  of  those,  who,  though  friends  to  the  object,  could  not 
agree  with  Mr.  Webster  on  the  abstract  grounds  of  action. 
The  third  resolution  put  into  the  hands  of  the  secretary  of  the 
treasury  power  to  adopt  any  measures  by  him  deemed  expe- 
dient, to  cause  all  sums  due  to  the  United  States  "to  be  col- 
lected and  paid  in  the  legal  currency  of  the  United  States,  or 
treasury -notes,  or  notes  of  the  bank  of  the  United  States,  as  by 
law  provided  and  declared,  or  in  notes  of  banks  which  are  pay- 
able and  paid  on  demand,  in  the  said  legal  currency  of  th§ 
United  States."  That  is,  all  debts  due  to  the  government 
were  to  be  paid,  in  all  the  states  alike,  either  in  gold  and  silver, 
or  in  the  bills  of  such  banks  as  paid  specie  at  their  counters. 
This  was  known  as  the  "specie  resolution  ;"  arid  it  was  the 
greatest  step  ever  taken  by  this  country  to  establish,  by  gen- 
eral law,  a  currency  uniform  in  every  portion  of  the  Union. 
It  met  with  unexpected  favor.  The  speech  made  in  its  behalf 
is  one  of  the  ablest  ever  made  even  by  Mr.  Webster.  The 
measure  was  so  popular,  that  it  passed  "  through  all  the  stages 
of  legislation,"  according  to  Mr.  Everett,  on  the  day  it  was  pro- 
posed ;  and,  approved  by  a  two-thirds  vote,  and  signed  by 
1/1  r.  Madison  four  days  later,  it  was  at  once  equally  popular 
outside  of  congress,  and  soon  regenerated  the  fallen  currency 
and  business  of  the  whole  nation. 

Thus  it  happened,  that  one  of  the  youngest  men  then  in  con 


170  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

gress,  following  in  a  path  where  Calhoun  himself  had  failo  1,  sue 
ceeded,  not  in  securing  some  trivial  grant  to  some  favorite 
place,  or  in  the  passage  of  some  law  of  local  value  only,  but  in 
establishing  a  general  principle,  for  all  the  states  of  the  Union, 
which  has  been  exerting  a  most  salutary  influence  upon  every 
citizen  from  that  day  forward,  and  which  will  exert  it,  if  per- 
mitted to  remain,  so  long  as  the  United  States  shall  continue  to 
be  a  country.  Such,  even  then,  was  the  character  of  the  youth- 
ful representative.  His  mind  was  not  satisfied  with  efforts  of 
limited  importance.  He  looked  over  the  whole  land  with  a 
broad  and  comprehensive  vision.  He  looked  through  the  fu- 
ture, and  sought  to  set  up  influences  that  should  be  felt  in  com- 
ing times.  "  Cases  are  dead  things,"  said  Burke,  "  but  princi- 
ples are  living  and  productive ;"  and  this,  even  at  the  opening 
of  his  career,  seemed  to  be  the  leading  maxim  of  that  remark- 
able young  congressman,  whom  the  world  began  now  to  know 
under  the  name  of  Daniel  Webster. 


CHAPTER  YII. 

A  LAWYER  IN  MASSACHUSETTS. 

"  WHATEVER  else  concerning  him  has  been  controverted  by 
anybody,"  says  Mr.  Seward,  a  rival  and  yet  a  friend  of  Web- 
ster, "the  fifty  thousand  lawyers  of  the  United  States,  inter- 
ested to  deny  his  pretensions,  conceded  to  him  an  unapproach- 
able supremacy  at  the  bar."  This,  certainly,  is  a  eulogy  suf- 
ficient for  the  ambition  of  any  man  ;  but  it  is  a  eulogy  which 
had  been  anticipated,  and  repeated  by  the  ablest  jurists,  civil- 
ians, barristers  and  attorneys  of  this  country,  for  the  last  thirty 
years.  All  of  them,  without  an  exception,  when  comparing 
him  with  the  most  distinguished  of  his  profession,  have  ac- 
corded to  him  this  preeminence  : 

"Qnantnm  lenta  sclent  inter  viburna  cupressi." 

With  all  the  honors  and  triumphs  of  his  public  life,  which, 
for  a  man  so  young,  surpassed  all  precedent  on  this  side  of 
the  Atlantic,  Daniel  Webster  still  looked  to  the  scenes  he 
had  left  behind  him,  and  to  the  profession  he  so  dearly  val 
ued,  with  desire,  with  ambition,  and  with  hope.  "I  ain  sick," 
said  William  Wirt,  in  a  letter  to  his  intimate  friend,  Dr.  Kice, 
"of  public  life.  My  skin  is  too  thin  for  the  business.  A  pol- 
itician should  have  the  hide  of  a  rhinoceros  to  bear  the  thrusts 
of  the  folly,  ignorance  and  meanness  of  those,  who  are  dis- 
posed to  mount  into  momentary  consequence  by  questioning 
their  betters  —  if  I  may  be  excused  the  expression,  after  pro- 
fessing my  modesty.  'There's  nought  but  care  on  every  hand 
VOL.  J.  H 


172  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

—  all,  all  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit,  save  religion,  friend- 
ship and  literature."  Not  for  the  same  reason, 'for  no  thrusts 
had  been  made  at  Webster,  but  for  his  love  of  retirement  and 
of  domestic  tranquillity,  he  longed  to  return,  after  this  brief 
trial  of  himself  before  the  country,  to  his  books,  to  his  private 
business,  and  to  that  dignified  and  yet  easy  way  of  life,  divided 
between  work  and  recreation,  which  had  always  been  to  him 
the  ideal  of  existence.  By  natural  taste,  he  was  rather  a  liter- 
ary man,  than  a  politician ;  but  his  studies,  his  profession,  his 
position  in  society,  compelled  him  to  be,  in  spite  of  his  strong 
est  resolutions,  and  wherever  he  placed  himself,  a  man  of  the 
public.  A  star  of  the  first  magnitude,  created  for  a  luminary 
and  a  blessing,  might  as  well  hold  its  position  in  the  zenith,  as 
on  the  verge  of  the  horizon ;  for,  hide  itself  where  it  might,  its 
own  brilliancy  would  betray  it;  and  m  n  would  climb  rnoun 
tains,  or  descend  into  pits  and  caverns,  to  witness  and  ad 
mire  it. 

It  was  thus  with  Daniel  Webster  in  the  retirement  he  sought, 
at  the  close  of  the  fourteenth  congress,  in  Boston.  His  posi 
tion  in  New  Hampshire,  though  highly  honorable,  had  not 
been  sufficiently  lucrative  for  a  man  of  his  generosity  of  char- 
acter, with  an  increasing  family.  Though  he  had  no  great  love 
of  money,  scarcely  enough  for  the  ordinary  purposes  of  life,  he 
had  felt  that  he  was  doing  too  little  for  himself  in  Portsmouth, 
and  that  he  must  establish  himself  at  a  point  where  he  would 
be  likely  to  find  a  larger  amount  of  practice.  He  had  thought 
of  several  localities,  but  chiefly  of  Boston  and  Albany,  in  both 
of  which,  as  the  reader  will  remember,  he  had  made  valuable 
acquaintances  in  his  younger  days.  Albany,  at  that  time,  was 
not  only,  as  it  is  now,  the  capital  of  the  most  populous  of  the 
states,  but  a  city  of  greater  commercial  importance,  compara- 
tively, than  it  is  at  present.  Boston,  however,  was  the  capital 
of  Massachusetts,  and  the  metropolis  of  New  England ;  and 
Mr.  Webster's  affection  for  his  native  country,  added  to  th? 


KEMOVES   TO    BOSTON.  173 

solicitations  of  numerous  warm  and  admiring  friends,  nad  pre- 
vailed on  him  to  make  Boston  the  place  of  his  future  residence; 
and  he  had  moved  to  that  city,  and  opened  an  office,  at  the  ter- 
mination of  the  first  session  of  the  fourteenth  congress.  It  was 
here,  during  the  succeeding  seven  years,  that  Mr.  Webster  rose 
to  that  eminence  as  a  lawyer,  which  he  ever  afterwards  main- 
tained. "The  promise  of  his  youth,"  says  Mr.  Everett,  "and 
the  expectations  of  those  who  had  known  him  as  a  student, 
were  more  than  fulfilled.  He  took  a  position  as  a  counselor 
and  an  advocate,  above  which  no  one  has  ever  risen  in  the 
country.  A  large  share  of  the  best  business  of  New  England 
poured  into  his  hands  ;  and  the  veterans  of  the  Boston  bar  ad- 
mitted him  to  an  entire  equality  of  standing,  repute,  and 
influence." 

His  position,  however,  was  not  gained  without  an  effort. 
With  his  residence  in  Boston,  Mr.  Webster  began  a  more 
thorough  course  of  reading,  as  a  lawyer,  and  particularly  as  a 
constitutional  lawyer,  than  he  had  ever  before  undertaken. 
His  short  career  in  congress  had  shown  him,  probably,  more 
than  all  his  former  experience,  the  peculiar  nature  of  his  genius. 
He  saw,  that,  while  he  could  stand  equal  to  his  first  competi- 
tors in  the  ordinary  departments  of  his  profession,  he  was  more 
than  their  equal  in  his  fitness  for  those  general  questions,  com- 
ing directly  under  the  constitutions  of  the  states,  and  the  con- 
stitution of  the  Union,  which  require  the  best  exercise  of  the 
best  faculties  of  the  human  mind.  His  mind  ran  in  that  direc- 
tion. He  was  always  looking  to  the  foundation  of  every  sub- 
ject ;  and  he  delighted  to  lay  down  his  work,  his  argument, 
his  business,  on  the  bottom  of  established  truths,  or  everlasting 
principles.  There  is  no  doubt,  that,  in  the  intricacies  of  com- 
mon practice,  such  as  every  lawyer  meets  with  in  every  court, 
Mr.  Webster  had,  then  and  always,  his  equals  if  not  superiors. 
In  this  department,  it  is  probable  that  Jeremiah  Mason,  Jere 
miah  Smith,  Franklin  Dexter,  and  several  others  in  New  En 


174  WKDSTER    AND    HIS    M  ASTER-PIEOE8. 

gland,  were  nearly  a  match  for  him  in  his  best  days ;  but  not 
one  of  them  could  stand  before  him,  when  he  rose  to  trace  a 
cause  to  its  ultimate  grounds,  or  deduce  it  from  the  secret  ele- 
ments of  human  nature.  Farther  south,  there  were  Emmett, 
and  Wirt,  and  Pinckney,  who,  as  advocates  merely,  on  an  oc- 
casion not  entirely  of  the  first  magnitude,  but  such  as  a  great 
deal  of  technical  learning,  an  exquisite  tact,  and  a  finished  and 
fine  elocution  could  easily  cope  with,  could  venture  to  meet 
Mr.  Webster  even  before  the  supreme  court  at  Washington  ; 
but,  as  will  be  soon  seen,  when  a  cause  involving  fundamental 
axioms,  and  reasoning  ab  origitie,  and  a  thorough  mastery  of 
the  structure  of  society  was  to  be  undertaken,  the  technicalities, 
and  legal  artifices,  and  racy  eloquence  of  those  gentlemen,  cap 
tivating  as  they  were  to  a  crowd  of  uninitiated  spectators,  were 
nothing  in  the  way  of  Mr.  Webster.  He  scarcely  seemed  tc 
notice  them.  He  would  walk  directly  up  to  the  main  points  of 
his  case,  seize  them  with  a  mighty  grasp,  and  hold  them,  as  a 
lion  holds  his  prey,  in  perfect  defiance  of  the  rattling  small 
arms  of  his  assailants.  In  this  field,  in  fact,  he  was  always  en- 
tirely at  home,  and  more  than  the  equal  of  any  man  of  his  age, 
or  of  his  country,  with  the  single  exception,  perhaps,  of  Alex- 
ander Hamilton. 

The  first  cause  of  public  importance,  which  Mr.  Webster  un- 
dertook after  his  removal  to  Boston,  was  the  celebrated  de- 
fense of  the  Kennistons  against  Goodridge,  who  had  charged 
them  with  highway  robbery.  So  few  of  Mr.  Webster's  legal 
arguments  have  been  reported,  and  the  case  now  mentioned 
furnishes  so  characteristic  a  view  of  his  peculiar  talents,  that 
the  careful  reader  will  not  fail  to  peruse  with  pleasure,  doubt- 
less, quite  a  full  and  satisfactory  account  of  it,  which  was  writ- 
ten out,  at  the  time,  by  Stephen  W.  Marston,  Esq.,  of  New- 
buryport,  who  was  associated  with  Mr.  Webster  in  the  trial : 
"  Major  Goodridge,"  says  the  writer,  "  was  a  young  man  of  good 
education,  and  respectable  connections,  of  fine  personal  appear 


CASE    OF    THE    KENNISTONS.  175 

anee,  gentlemanly  deportment,  and  good  character.  His  place 
of  business  was  Bangor,  Maine,  and,  at  the  time  of  the  alleged 
robherv,  he  was  on  his  way  to  Boston,  traveling  in  a  one-horse 
sleigh,  alone  with  a  considerable  sum  of  money.  Before  leav- 
ing home  he  procured  a  pair  of  pistols,  which  he  discharged 
and  loaded  daily,  as  he  said,  in  some  'unfrequented  piece  of 
woods,  for  he  did  not  wish  it  to  be  known  that  he  was  armed. 
He  said,  moreover,  that  he  took  the  precaution  to  ptit  a  pri- 
vate mark  upon  every  piece  of  money  in  his  possession,  so  as 
to  be  able  to  identify  it  if  he  should  be  robbed.  His  some- 
what singular  reason  for  these  preliminary  measures  was,  that 
he  had  heard  of  a  robbery  in  Maine,  not  long  before. 

"  When  he  arrived  at  Exeter,  New  Hampshire,  he  procured 
nine  balls,  and  then,  for  the  first  time,  made  no  secret  of  hav 
ing  pistols.  At  this  place  he  left  his  sleigh,  obtained  a  saddle, 
and  started  for  Newburyport  on  horseback,  late  in  the  after- 
noon of  the  19th  of  December,  [1817]  passing  the  Essex  Mer- 
rimack  bridge  a  few  minutes  before  nine  o'clock.  On  the 
brow  of  the  hill,  a  short  distance  from  the  bridge,  is  the  place 
of  the  robbery,  in  full  view  of  several  houses,  on  a  great  thor- 
oughfare, where  people  are  constantly  passing,  and  where  the 
mail  coach  and  two  wagons  were  known  to  have  passed 
within  a  few  minutes  of  the  time  of  the  alleged  robbery. 

"  The  major's  story  was  as  follows  :  Three  men  suddenly 
appeared  before  him,  one  of  whom  seized  the  bridle  of  the 
horse,  presented  a  pistol,  and  demanded  his  money.  The  ma- 
jor, pretending  to  be  getting  his  money,  seized  a  pistol  from 
his  portmanteau  with  his  right  hand,  grasped  the  ruffian  at  the 
horse's  head  with  his  left,  and  both  discharged  their  pistols  at 
the  same  instant,  the  ball  of  his  adversary  passing  through  the 
major's  hand.  The  three  robbers  then  pulled  him  from  his 
horse,  dragged  him  over  the  frozen  ground,  and  over  the  fence, 
beating  him  till  he  was  senseless,  and  robbed  him  of  about  sev- 
enteen hundred  dollars  in  gold  and  paper  money,  and  left  him 


176  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

with  his  gold  watch  and  all  his  papers  in  the  field.  Recover 
ing  in  about  half  an  hour,  he  went  back  to  the  bridge ;  passed 
several  houses  without  calling,  and,  at  the  toll-house,  accused 
the  first  person  he  met  with,  a  female,  of  robbing  htm  ;  and 
so  continued  charging  various  people  about  him  with  the  rob- 
bery. After  some  time  a  lantern  was  procured,  and  himself 
with  others  started  for  the  place  of  the  robbery,  where  were 
found  his  watch,  papers,  penknife  and  other  articles.  He  rep- 
resented to  them  that  the  robbers  had  bruised  his  head, 
stamped  upon  his  breast,  and  stabbed  him  in  several  places. 
Physicians  were  called  ;  and  he  appeared  to  be  insane.  The 
next  day  he  went  to  Newburyport,  and  was  confined  to  his 
bed  for  several  weeks.  A  reward  of  three  hundred  dollars, 
soon  increased  by  voluntary  subscriptions  to  one  thousand,  was 
offered  for  the  detection  of  the  robbers  and  the  recovery  of  the 
money.  As  soon  as  the  major  was  able  to  leave  his  bed,  he 
went  to  Danvers,  consulted  his  friends  there ;  and  the  result 
of  his  deliberations  and  inquiries  was  the  arrest  of  the  Kennis- 
tons,  who  were  found  in  an  obscure  part  of  the  town  of  New 
Market,  New  Hampshire,  their  place  of  residence.  In  their 
house  the  major  found  some  pieces  of  his  marked  gold,  de- 
posited under  a  pork  barrel  in  the  cellar.  He  also  found  there 
a  ten-dollar  note,  which  he  identified  as  his  own. 

"  This  was  proof  indeed  of  the  facts  of  the  robbery,  which 
seemed  for  a  time  effectually  fastened  on  the  Kennistons.  But 
one  circumstance  after  another  came  to  light,  in  regard  to  the 
transaction,  until  some  people  felt  doubts  creeping  over  their 
minds  as  to  the  truthfulness  of  the  major's  story.  These  were 
few  in  number,  it  is  true  ;  but  such  an  intimation,  coming  from 
any  respectable  source,  was  enough  to  startle  the  major  and 
his  friends  from  their  apathy,  and  incite  them  to  renewed  ef- 
forts to  probe  this  dark  and  mysterious  transaction  to  its 
depths.  The  result  was  to  search  the  house  of  Mr.  Pearson, 
the  toll-gatherer  at  the  bridge  ;  but  here  nothing  was  found. 


CASK    OF    THE    KENNISTONS    CONTINUED.  177 

They  then  procured  the  services  of  an  old  conjuror  of  Danvers, 
Swimmington  by  name,  and,  under  his  direction,  with  witch- 
hazel  and  metallic  rods,  renewed  their  search  upon  Mr.  Pear- 
son's premises,  this  time  discovering  the  major's  gold  and  pa- 
per wrappers.  Mr.  Pearson  was  arrested,  carried  to  New- 
buryport,  examined  before  two  magistrates,  and  discharged  at 
once.  This  operation  proved  most  unpropitious  to  the  major's 
plans.  So  great  was  the  indignation  of  Mr.  Pearson's  friends, 
for  he  was  a  respectable  man,  that  they  lost  all  control  over 
themselves,  and,  .after  the  examination,  detaching  the  horses 
from  the  sleigh,  they  drew  him  home  themselves. 

"  It  now  became  more  necessary  than  ever,  that  some  one 
should  be  found,  who  might  be  connected  with  the  Kennistons 
in  the  robbery ;  for  the  circumstances  in  relation  to  these  men 
were  such,  that  the  public  could  not  believe  that  they  had  re- 
ceived a  portion  of  the  spoil.  The  next  step,  therefore,  was 
to  arrest  one  Taber  of  Boston,  who  had  formerly  lived  in  Port 
land,  and  whom  Good  ridge  said  he  had  seen  at  Alfred  on  his  way 
up,  and  from  whom  he  pretended  to  have  obtained  information 
in  regard  to  the  Kennistons.  In  Taber's  house  were  found  a 
number  of  the  marked  wrappers,  which  the  major  had  put 
round  his  gold  before  leaving  home.  Taber  was  likewise 
brought  to  Newburyport,  examined,  and  bound  over  for  trial 
with  the  Kennistons. 

"  Notwithstanding  all  this  accumulation  of  evidence,  the  pub- 
lic were  not  satisfied.  It  seemed  to  be  necessary  that  some- 
body living  near  the  bridge  should  be  connected  with  the  trans- 
action ;  and  Mr.  Joseph  Jackman  was  fastened  upon  as  that 
unfortunate  man,  he  having  left  Newbury  for  New  York  very 
soon  after  the  alleged  robbery.  Thither  Goodridge  immedi- 
ately proceeded,  found  Jackman,  who  was  living  then  with  his 
brother,  searched  the  house,  and  in  the  garret,  among  some  old 
rubbish,  found  a  large  number  of  his  marked  wrappers !  The 
majoj's  tpuoh  was  magical,  and  underneath  his  fingers  gold  an<J 


*78  WEHSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

bank-notes  grew  in  plenty.  Jack  man  was  arrested  and  lodged 
in  'the  Tombs,'  while  Goodridge  returned  to  Boston,  got  a 
requisition  from  the  governor,  and  had  him  brought  in  irons  to 
Ipswich,  where  the  supreme  judicial  court  was  then  in  session. 
The  grand  jury  had  risen,  but  he  was  examined  before  a  ma- 
gistrate, and  ordered  to  recognize  to  appear  at  the  next  term — 
which  he  did,  and  was  discharged.  An  indictment  had  been 
found  against  the  Kennistons  and  Taber  ;  and  the  time  of.  trial 
had  arrived.  Notwithstanding  the  doubts  and  suspicions, 
which  had  been  excited  by  the  conduct  of  Goodridge,  yet  the 
evidence  against  the  Kennistons,  Taber  and  Jackman  was  so 
overwhelming,  that  almost  every  one  felt  sure  of  their  conviction. 
To  such  an  extent  did  this  opinion  prevail,  that  no  member  of 
the  Essex  bar  was  willing  to  undertake  their  defense.  Under 
these  circumstances,  two  or  three  individuals,  who  had  been 
early  convinced  that  the  major's  stories  were  false  from  begin- 
ning to  end,  determined,  the  day  before  the  trial,  to  send  to 
Suffolk  for  counsel.  Mr.  Webster  had  just  then  removed  to 
Boston  from  Portsmouth.  His  services  were  engaged ;  and, 
late  in  the  night  preceding  the  day  of  trial,  he  arrived  at  Ips- 
wich, having  had  no  opportunity  to  examine  the  witnesses,  and 
but  little  time  for  consultation.  The  indictment  against  Taber 
was  nol  pressed,  and  the  trial  of  the  Kennistons  was  com- 
menced. Mr.  Webster,  as  senior  counsel,  conducted  the  de- 
fense with  a  degree  of  ability,  boldness,  tact  and  legal  learning, 
which  had  rarely  been  witnessed  in  Essex  county ;  and,  not- 
withstanding the  accumulated  mass  of  evidence  against  th< 
Kennistons,  they  were  acquitted. 

"  At  the  next  term  of  the  supreme  judicial  court,  Jackman 
was  indicted  and  tried,  but  the  jury  did  not  agree,  though  the 
Hon.  William  Prescott  had  been  employed  to  assist  the  pros- 
ecuting  officer.  Jackman  was  again  tried  at  the  next  term  of 
the  court,  and  this  time  defended  by  Mr.  Webster,  and  ac- 
quitted. 


CASE    OF    THE    KENNISTON8    CONTINUED.  l79 

"  The  criminal  prosecutions  growing  out  of  this  affair  being 
thus  ended,  Mr.  Pearson  commenced  an  action  against  Good 
ridge  for  malicious  prosecution,  laying  his  damages  at  two  thou- 
sand dollars,  which  sum  the  jury  awarded  him  without  leaving 
their  seats.  In  this  case,  also,  Mr.  Webster  was  counsel  for 
the  plaintiff;  and  time  had  brought  forth  so  many  new  facts, 
and  the  evidence  was  so  clear  and  overwhelming  against  Good- 
ridge,  that  the  public  became  satisfied  that  he  was  his  own  rob- 
ber !  He  was  surrendered  by  his  bail,  committed  to  jail,  took 
the  poor  debtors1  oath,  and  soon  after  left  the  commonwealth,  and 
has  not  resided  here  since.  The  public  rarely  stop  to  consider 
how  much  they  are  indebted  to  men  like  Webster  for  laying 
bare  the  villainy  of  such  a  deep-laid  and  diabolical  plot.  But 
for  him,  there  is  no  doubt  the  Kennistons  and  Jackman  would 
have  been  convicted  of  highway  robbery,  though  innocent." 

It  was  undeniably  Mr.  Webster's  custom,  in  every  trial 
which  he  conducted,  to  make  every  preparation  essential  to  the 
case ;  but  they  who  imagine  that,  without  such  preparation,  he 
was  no  more  than  an  ordinary  man,  as  if  he  had  no  great  read- 
iness of  speech,  should  read  his  argument  in  this  prosecution. 
Without  a  day's  opportunity  for  study,  with  only  a  few  hours' 
reading  of  the  notes  of  the  junior  counsel,  he  stood  up  before 
the  jury  and  made  such  a  defense  of  his  clients,  as  none  but  a 
Pitt,  or  a  Fox,  or  a  Burke  could  have  made,  with  or  without 
preparation.  When  he  sat  down,  he  had  convinced  the  judg- 
ment and  moved  the  sympathies  of  every  man  that  heard  him 
speak ;  and  in  every  one's  estimation,  court,  lawyers,  specta- 
tors, he  had  given  them  the  exact  truth,  and  made  an  effort 
worthy  of  being  remembered  for  a  generation.  It  was  remem- 
bered ;  and  it  ma}  continue  to  be  read  and  admired,  in  the 
rough  notes  taken  of  it  at  the  moment  by  another  hand,  and 
revised  by  himself,  as  long  as  legal  abilities  and  forensic  elo- 
quence shall  engage  the  attention  of  mankind. 

There  was  one  topic  in  the  argument  of  Mr.  Webster,  which, 

VOL.  i.         H*  la 


180  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

judged  from  the  hasty  report  already  mentioned,  must  have 
wrought  up  the  advocate  to  his  highest  pitch  of  eloquence. 
The  witnesses  had  spoken  of  the  appearance  of  the  prisoners 
when  apprehended ;  and  the  counsel  for  the  prosecution  had 
dwelt  on  that  appearance  as  conclusive  evidence  of  their  guilt. 
Having  followed  out  all  the  direct  evidence  in  the  case,  and 
shown  the  absolute  futility  of  the  whole,  he  then  addressed 
himself  to  this  poor  attempt  to  bring  testimony  against  his  cli 
ents'out  of  their  behavior  when  arrested,  and  set  forth  a  prin- 
ciple which  neither  justice  nor  charity  should  ever  overlook  : 
"  The  witnesses  on  the  part  of  the  prosecution,"  says  the  advo- 
cate, "have  testified  that  the  defendants,  when  arrested,  mani- 
fested great  agitation  and  alarm.  Paleness  overspread  their 
faces,  and  drops  of  sweat  stood  on  their  temples.  This  satis. 
fied  the  witnesses  of  the  defendants'  guilt ;  and  they  now  state 
the  circumstances  as  being  indubitable  proof.  This  argument 
manifests,  in  those  who  use  it,  an  equal  want  of  sense  and  sen 
sibility.  It  is  precisely  fitted  to  the  feelings  of  a  bum-bailiff! 
In  a  court  of  justice  it  deserves  nothing  but  contempt.  Is  there 
nothing  that  can  agitate  the  frame,  or  excite  the  blood,  but  the 
consciousness  of  guilt  1  If  the  defendants  were  innocent,  would 
they  not  feel  indignation  at  this  unjust  accusation  1  If  they  saw 
an  attempt  to  produce  false  evidence  against  them,  would  they 
not  be  angry  1  And,  seeing  the  production  of  such  evi- 
dence, might  they  not  feel  fear  and  alarm  1  And  have  indig- 
nation, and  anger,  and  terror,  no  power  to  affo.et  the  human 
countenance,  or  the  human  frame  1  Miserable,  miserable,  in- 
deed, is  the  reasoning  which  would  infer  any  man's  guilt  from 
his  agitation  when  he  found  himself  accused  of  a  heinous  offense; 
when  he  saw  evidence  which  he  might  know  to  be  false  and 
fraudulent  brought  against  him  ;  when  his  house  was  filled, 
from  garret  to  cellar,  by  those  whom  he  might  esteem  as  false 
witnesses ;  and  when  he  himself,  instead  of  being  at  liberty  to 
observe  their  conduct  and  watch  their  motions,  was  a  prisoner 


DARTMOUTH    COLLEGE    CASE.  181 

in  close  custody  in  his  own  house,  with  the  fists  of  a  catchpoll 
clenched  upon  his  throat."  But  it  is  impossible  now,  from  any 
thing  that  remains,  to  give  a  just  idea  of  the  eloquence  of  that 
hour  and  place.  It  has  gone,  with  nearly  all  the  forensic  elo- 
quence of  him,  who  never  had  his  superior  in  our  courts,  never 
to  be  recalled,  perhaps  never  to  be  surpassed. 

On  the  10th  day  of  March,  1818,  Mr.  Webster  made  his 
first  appearance  before  the  supreme  court  of  the  United  States 
at  Washington ;  and  it  is  remarkable,  that  the  cause  which 
brought  him  there  was  that  of  the  trustees  of  Dartmouth  Col- 
lege, his  Alma  Mater,  against  William  H.  Woodward,  who 
represented  in  the  suit  the  state  of  New  Hampshire,  Mr.  Web- 
ster's native  state.  The  nature  of  the  case,  and  the  leading  cir- 
cumstances connected  with  it,  have  been  given  with  great  clear- 
ness by  Mr.  Webster  :  "  The  charter  of  1769,"  says  he,  in  the 
opening  of  his  argument,  "created  and  established  a  corpora- 
tion to  consist  of  twelve  persons,  and  no  more,  to  be  called  the 
'Trustees  of  Dartmouth  College.'  The  preamble  to  the  char- 
ter recites,  that  it  is  granted  on  the  application  and  request  of 
Rev.  Eleazer  Wheelock  ;  that  Dr.  Wheelock,  about  the  year 
1754,  established  a  charity  school,  at  his  own  expense,  and  on 
his  own  estate  and  plantation  ;  that  for  several  years,  through 
the  assistance  of  well-disposed  persons  in  America,  granted  at 
his  solicitation,  he  had  clothed,  maintained  and  educated  a  num- 
ber of  native  Indians,  and  employed  them  afterwards  as  mis- 
sionaries and  schoolmasters  among  the  savage  tribes ;  that,  his 
design  promising  to  be  useful,  he  had  constituted  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Whitaker  to  be  his  attorney,  with  power  to  solicit  contribu- 
tions in  England,  for  the  further  extension  and  carrrying  on  of 
nis  undertaking  ;  that  he  had  requested  the  Earl  of  Dartmouth, 
Baron  Smith,  Mr.  Thornton,  and  other  gentlemen,  to  receive 
such  sums  as  might  be  contributed,  in  England,  towards  sup- 
porting his  school,  and  to  be  trustees  thereof,  for  his  charity, 
which  these  persons  had  agreed  to  do ;  that  thereupon  Dr. 


182  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

Wheelock  had  executed  to  them  a  'deed  of  trust,  in  pursuance 
of  such  agreement  between  him  and  them,  and,  for  divers  good 
reasons,  had  referred  it  to  those  persons  to  determine  the  place 
in  which  the  school  should  be  finally  established.  And,  to  en- 
able them  to  form  a  proper  decision  on  this  subject,  had  laid 
before  them  the  several  offers  which  had  been  made  to  him  by 
the  several  governments  in  America,  in  order  to  induce  him  to 
sc-ttle  and  establish  his  school  within  the  limits  of  such  govern- 
ments for  their  own  emolument,  and  the  increase  of  learning 
in  their  respective  places,  as  well  as  for  the  furtherance  of  his 
general  original  design.  And,  inasmuch  as  a  number  of  the 
proprietors  of  land  in  New  Hampshire,  animated  by  the  exam- 
ple of  the  governor  himself  and  others,  and  in  consideration 
that,  without  any  impediment  to  its  original  design,  the  school 
might  be  enlarged  and  improved,  to  promote  learning  among 
the  English,  and  to  supply  ministers  to  the  people  of  that  prov- 
ince, had  promised  large  tracts  of  land,  provided  the  school 
should  be  established  in  that  province,  the  persons  before  men- 
tioned, having  weighed  the  reasons  in  favor  of  the  several  pla- 
ces proposed,  had  given  the  preference  to  this  province,  and  to 
these  offers.  That  Dr.  Wheelock  therefore  represented  the  ne- 
cessity of  a  legal  incorporation,  and  proposed  that  certain  gen- 
tlemen in  America,  whom  he  had  already  named  and  appointed 
in  his  will  to  be  trustees  of  his  charity  after  his  decease,  should 
compose  the  corporation.  Upon  this  recital,  and  in  consid- 
eration of  the  laudable  original  design  of  Dr.  Wheelock,  and 
willing  that  the  best  means  of  education  be  established  in  New 
Hampshire,  for  the  benefit  of  the  province,  the  king  granted 
the  charter,  by  the  advice  of  his  provincial  council. 

"  The  substance  of  the  facts  thus  recited  is,  that  Dr.  Whee- 
Icck  had  founded  a  charity,  on  funds  owned  and  procured  by 
himself;  that  he  was  at  that  time  the  sole  dispenser  and  sole 
administrator,  as  well  as  legal  owner,  of  these  funds ;  that  he 
had  made  his  will,  devising  this  property  in  trust,  to  continue 


COLLEGE    CASE    CONTINUED.  183 

the  existence  and  uses  of  the  school,  and  appointed  trustees ; 
that  in  this  state  of  things,  he  had  been  invited  to  fix  his  school, 
permanently,  in  New  Hampshire,  and  to  extend  the  design  of 
it  to  the  education  of  the  -youth  of  that  province  ;  that,  before 
he  removed  his  school,  or  accepted  this  invitation,  which  his 
friends  in  England  had  advised  him  to  accept,  he  applied  for  a 
charter,  to  be  granted,  not  to  whomsoever  the  king  or  govern- 
ment of  the  province  should  please,  but  to  such  persons  as  he 
named  and  appointed,  namely,  the  persons  whom  he  had  al- 
ready appointed  to  be  the  future  trustees  of  his  charity  by  his 
will. 

"The  charter,  or  letters  patent,  then  proceed  to  create  such  a 
corporation,  and  to  appoint  twelve  persons  to  constitute  it,  by 
the  name  of  the  'Trustees  of  Dartmouth  College  ;'  to  have  per- 
petual existence,  as  such  corporation,  and  with  power  to  hold 
and  dispose  of  lands  and  goods,  for  the  use  of  the  college,  with 
all  the  ordinary  powers  of  corporations.  They  are  in  their  dis- 
cretion to  apply  the  funds  and  property  of  the  college  to  the 
support  of  the  president,  tutors,  ministers,  and  other  officers  of 
the  college,  and  such  missionaries  and  schoolmasters  as  they 
may  see  fit  to  employ  among  the  Indians.  There  are  to  be 
twelve  trustees  forever,  and  no  more  ;  and  they  are  to  have 
the  right  of  filling  vacancies  occurring  in  their  own  body.  The 
Rev.  Mr.  Wheelock  is  declared  to  be  the  founder  of  the  ccl- 
lege,  and  is  by  the  charter  appointed  first  president,  with  power 
to  appoint  a  successor  by  his  last  will.  All  proper  powers  of 
government,  superintendence,  and  visitation  are  vested  in  the 
trustees.  They  are  to  appoint  and  remove  all  officers  at  their 
discretion ;  fix  their  salaries,  and  assign  their  duties ;  and  to 
make  all  ordinances,  orders,  and  laws  for  tfie  government  of 
the  students.  To  the  end  that  the  persons,  who  had  acted  as 
depositaries  of  the  contributions  in  England,  and  who  had  also 
been  contributors  themselves,  might  be  satisfied  of  the  good 
use  of  their  contributions,  the  president  was  annually,  or  when 


l8l  WKDSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

required,  tc  transmit  to  them  an  account  of  the  progress  of  the 
institution  and  the  disbursments  of  its  funds,  so  long  as  they 
should  continue  to  act  in  that  trust.  These  letters  patent  are 
to  be  good  and  effectual,  in  law,  against  the  king,  his  heirs  and 
successors  forever,  without  further  grant  or  confirmation  ;  and 
the  trustees  are  to  hold  all  and  singular  those  privileges,  advan- 
tages, liberties,  and  immunities,  to  them  and  their  successors 
forever. 

"No  funds  are  given  to  the  college  by  this  charter.  A  cor- 
porate existence  and  capacity  are  given  to  the  trustees,  with  the 
privileges  and  immunities  which  have  been  mentioned,  to  enable 
the  founder  and  his  associates  the  better  to  manage  the  funds 
which  they  themselves  had  contributed,  and  such  others  as  they 
might  afterwards  obtain. 

"After  the  institution  thus  created  and  constituted  had  ex- 
isted, uninterruptedly  and  usefully,  nearly  fifty  years,  the  legis- 
lature of  New  Hampshire  passed  the  acts  in  question. 

"  The  first  act  makes  the  twelve  trustees  under  the  charter, 
znd  nine  other  individuals,  to  be  appointed  by  the  governor 
and  council,  a  corporation,  by  a  new  name ;  and  to  this  new 
corporation  transfers  all  the  properly,  rights,  powers,  liberties 
and  privileges,  of  the  old  corporation  ;  with  further  power  to 
establish  new  colleges  and  an  institute,  and  to  apply  all  or  any 
part  of  the  funds  to  those  purposes ;  subject  to  the  power  and 
control  of  a  board  of  twenty -five  overseers,  to  be  appointed  by 
the  governor  and  council. 

"  The  second  act  makes  further  provisions  for  executing  the 
objects  of  the  first ;  and  the  last  act  authorizes  the  defendant, 
the  treasurer  of  the  plaintiffs,  to  retain  and  hold  their  property, 
against  their  will." 

The  declaration  of  the  plaintiffs,  who  were  the  original  twelve 
trustees,  was  that  of  "  trover  for  the  books  of  record,  original 
charter,  common  seal,  and  other  corporate  property  of  the  col- 
.ege.  The  conversion  was  alleged  to  have  been  made  on  the 


COLLEGE  CASE  CONTINUED.  185 

7th  day  of  October,  1816.  The  proper  pleas  were  filed  ;  and 
by  consent  the  cause  was  carried  directly  to  the  superior  court 
of  New  Hampshire,  by  appeal,  and  entered  at  the  May  term. 
1817.  The  general  issue  was  pleaded  by  the  defendant  and 
joined  by  the  plaintiffs.  The  facts  in  the  case  were  then  agreed 
upon  by  the  parties,  and  drawn  up  in  the  form  of  a  special  ver 
diet,  reciting  the  charter  of  the  college  and  the  acts  of  the  legis 
lature  of  the  state,  passed  June  and  December,  1816,  by 
which  the  said  corporation  of  Dartmouth  College  was  enlarged 
and  improved,  and  the  said  charter  amended." 

The  question  at  issue  between  the  parties  was,  whether  the 
acts  of  the  legislature  of  New  Hampshire,  which  destroyed  a 
corporation  and  made  a  new  one,  were  binding  upon  the  old 
corporation  without  its  consent,  if  they  were  not  contrary  to  the 
constitution  of  the  United  States. 

"The  cause  was  continued" — this  is  probably  the  language 
of  Mr.  Webster,  though  it  is  given  under  the  name  of  Mr.  Ev- 
erett—  "to  the  September  term  of  the  court  in  Rockingham 
county,  where  it  was  argued ;  and  at  the  November  term  of 
the  same  year,  in  Grafton  county,  the  opinion  of  the  court  was 
delivered  by  Chief  Justice  Richardson,  in  favor  of  the  validity 
and  constitutionality  of  the  acts  of  the  legislature ;  and  judg- 
ment was  entered  for  the  defendant  on  the  special  verdict. 
Thereupon  a  writ  of  error  was  sued  out  by  the  original  plain- 
tiffs, to  remove  the  cause  to  the  supreme  court  of  the  United 
States,  where  it  was  entered  at  the  term  of  the  court  holden  at 
Washington  on  the  first  Monday  of  February,  1818.  The 
cause  came  on  for  argument  on  the  10th  of  March,  1818,  be- 
fore all  the  judges.  It  was  argued  by  Mr.  Webster  and  Mr. 
Hopkinson  for  the  plaintiffs  in  error,  and  by  Mr.  Holmes  (of 
Maine)  and  the  attorney  general  (Mr.  Wirt)  for  the  defendant 
in  error.  At  the  term  of  the  court  holden  in  February,  1819, 
the  opinion  of  the  judges  was  delivered  by  Chief  Justice  Mar- 
shall, declaring  the  act)*  of  the  legislature  unconstitutional  and 


ISO  WEBSTER  AND  HIS  MASTER-PIECES. 

invalid,  and  reversing  the  judgment  of  the  state  court  The 
court,  with  the  exception  of  Mr.  Justice  Duvall,  were  jnan- 
irnous." 

Such  is  a  general  account  of  Mr.  Webster's  first  cause  before 
that  high  tribunal  where  he  was  afterwards  to  stand  as  second 
to  no  living  man.  The  effort  made  at  this  time,  in  fact,  was 
the  effort  that  lifted  him  far  above  his  associates — above  Hop- 
kinson,  Holmes,  and  even  Wirt  —  above  Emmett  and  Pinck- 
ney  themselves — above  every  American  advocate,  living  or 
dead,  with  the  exception  before  made  of  Alexander  Hamilton. 
For  fairness  and  clearness  of  statement,,  for  research  that  left 
nothing  below  or  beyond  it,  for  apt  and  various  learning,  for  a 
most  powerful  grasp  of  the  true  points  in  the  case,  for  thor- 
ough and  incontrovertible  logic,  for  a  masterly  force,  felicity 
and  fitness  of  expression,  for  every  element,  in  truth,  that  goes 
in  to  constitute  a  peformance  of  power  and  genius,  his  argu- 
ment in  this  cause  may  be  pointed  to  as  almost  a  finished  model 
of  forensic  eloquence. 

This  masterly  performance  is  not  given  in  full  in  the  works 
of  Mr.  Webster.  The  peroration  is  entirely  wanting.  This, 
if  we  are  to  judge  from  the  opinions  expressed  of  it  by  others, 
must  have  been  possessed  of  transcendent  power :  "  Mr. 
Webster's  argument,"  says  Mr.  Ticknor,  who  edited  the  first 
collection  of  Mr.  Webster's  speeches,  "  is  given  in  this  volume ; 
that  is,  we  have  there  the  technical  outline  ;  the  dry  skeleton. 
But  those  who  heard  him  when  it  was  originally  delivered,  still 
wonder  how  such  dry  bones  could  ever  have  lived  with  the 
power  they  there  witnessed  and  felt.  He  opened  his  cause,  as 
he  always  does,  with  perfect  simplicity  in  the  general  statement 
of  its  facts,  and  then  went  on  to  unfold  the  topics  of  his  argu- 
ment in  a  lucid  order,  which  made  each  position  sustain  every 
other.  The  logic  and  the  law  were  rendered  irresistible.  But 
as  he  advanced,  his  heart  warmed  to  the  subject  and  the  occa- 
sion. Thoughts  and  feelings  that  had  grown  r>)d  vnth  his  best 


COLLEGE  CASE  CONTINUED.  187 

affections,  rose  unbidden  to  his  lips.  lie  remembered  that  the 
institution  he  was  defending  was  the  one  where  his  own  youth 
had  been  nurtured  ;  and  the  moral  tenderness  and  beauty  this 
gave  to  the  grandeur  of  his  thoughts,  the  sort  of  religious  sen- 
sibility it  imparted  to  the  urgent  appeals  and  demands  for  the 
stern  fulfillment  of  what  law  and  justice  required,  wrought  up 
the  whole  audience  to  an  extraordinary  state  of  excitement. 
Many  betrayed  strong  agitation,  many  were  dissolved  in  tears 
Prominent  among  them  was  that  eminent  lawyer  and  states- 
man, Robert  Goodloe  Harper,  who  came  to  him  when  he  re- 
sumed his  seat,  evincing  emotions  of  the  highest  gratification. 
When  he  ceased  to  speak,  there  was  a  perceptible  interval  be- 
fore any  one  was  willing  to  break  the  silence ;  and  when  that 
vast  crowd  separated,  not  one  person  of  the  whole  number 
doubted  that  the  man  who  had  that  day  so  moved,  astonished, 
and  controlled  them,  had  vindicated  for  himself  a  place  at  the 
side  of  the  fi»st  jurists  of  the  country." 

The  best  account  of  this  great  performance,  and  of  the  effect 
it  had  upon  those  who  heard  it,  was  drawn  out,  only  a  short 
time  since,  by  the  agency  of  the  Hon.  Rufus  Choate,  on  the  oc- 
casion of  his  delivering  his  remarkable  discourse  commemora- 
tive of  Daniel  Webster.  It  came  to  him  from  the  pen  of  Pro- 
fessor Goodrich,  of  Yale  College,  who  went  to  Washington  on 
purpose  to  hear  Mr.  Webster :  "  Before  going  to  Washing- 
ton," says  Dr.  Goodrich,  "which  I  did  chiefly  for  the  sake  of 
hearing  Mr.  Webster,  I  was  told  that,  in  arguing  the  case  at 
Exeter,  New  Hampshire,  he  had  left  the  whole  court-room  in 
tears  at  the  conclusion  of  his  speech.  This,  I  confess,  struck 
me  unpleasantly — any  attempt  at  pathos  on  a  purely  legal 
question  like  this,  seemed  hardly  in  good  taste.  On  my  way 
to  Washington,  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Webster. 
We  were  together  for  several  days  in  Philadelphia,  at  the 
house  of  a  common  friend ;  and  as  the  college  question  was 
one  of  deep  interest  to  literary  men,  WP  conversed  often  and 


188  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES 

largely  on  the  subject.  As  he  dwelt  on  the  leading  points  of 
the  case,  in  terms  so  calm,  simple,  and  precise,  I  said  to  myself 
more  than  once,  in  reference  to  the  story  I  had  heard,  'What 
ever  may  have  seemed  appropriate  in  defending  the  college  at 
home,  and  on  her  own  ground,  there  will  be  no  appeal  to  the 
feelings  of  Judge  Marshall  and  his  associates  at  Washington.' 
The  supreme  court  of  the  United  States  held  its  session,  that 
winter  in  a  mean  apartment  of  moderate  size,  the  capitol  not 
having  been  built  after  its  destruction  in  1814.  The  audience, 
when  the  case  came  on,  was  therefore  small,  consisting  chiefly 
of  legal  men,  the  elite  of  the  profession  throughout  the  coun- 
try. Mr.  Webster  entered  upon  his  argument  in  the  calm  tone 
of  easy  and  dignified  conversation.  His  matter  was  so  com- 
pletely at  his  command  that  he  scarcely  looked  at  his  brief, 
but  went  on  for  more  than  four  hours  with  a  statement  so  lu- 
minous, and  a  chain  of  reasoning  so  easy  to  be  understood, 
and  yet  approaching  so  nearly  to  absolute  demonstration,  that 
he  seemed  to  carry  with  him  every  man  of  his  audience  with- 
out the  slightest  effort  or  weariness  on  either  side.  It  was 
hardly  eloquence,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  term  ;  it  was  pure 
reason.  Now  and  then,  for  a  sentence  or  two,  his  eye  flashed 
and  his  voice  swelled  into  a  bolder  note,  as  he  uttered  some 
emphatic  thought ;  but  he  instantly  fell  back  into  the  tone  of 
earnest  conversation,  which  ran  throughout  the  great  body  of 
his  speech.  A  single  circumstance  will  show  you  the  clearness 
and  absorbing  power  of  his  argument :  I  observed  that 
Judge  Story,  at  the  opening  of  the  case,  had  prepared  himself, 
pen  in  hand,  as  if  to  take  copious  minutes.  Hour  after  hour  I 
saw  him  fixed  in  the  same  attitude,  but,  as  far  as  I  could  per- 
ceive, with  not  a  note  on  his  paper.  The  argument  closed,  and 
I  could  not  discover  that  he  had  taken  a  single  note.  Others 
around  me  remarked  the  same  thing,  and  it  was  among  the 
on  dils  of  Washington,  that  a  friend  spoke  tc  him  of  the  fact 
with  surprise,  when  the  judge  remarked,  '  everything  was  sc 


COLLEGE  CASE  CONTINUED.  189 

clear,  and  so  easy  to  remember,  that  not  a  note  seemed  ae 
cessaiy,  and,  in  fact,  I  thought  little  or  nothing  about  my 
notes.1 

t;  The  argument  ended.  Mr.  Webster  stood  for  some  mo- 
ments silent  before  the  court,  while  every  eye  was  fixed  in- 
tently upon  him.  At  length,  addressing  the  chief  justice,  Mar- 
shall, he  proceeded  thus : 

"  '  This,  sir,  is  my  case  !  It  is  the  case,  not  merely  of  that 
humble  institution,  it  is  the  case  of  every  college  in  our  land. 
It  is  more.  It  is  the  case  of  every  eleemosynary  institution 
throughout  our  country — of  all  those  great  charities  founded  by 
the  piety  of  our  ancestors  to  alleviate  human  misery,  and  scat- 
ter blessings  along  the  pathway  of  life.  It  is  more  !  It  is,  in 
some  sense,  the  case  of  every  man  among  us  who  has  prop- 
erty of  which  he  may  be  stripped,  for  the  question  is  simply 
this :  Shall  our  state  legislatures  be  allowed  to  take  that 
which  is  not  their  own,  to  turn  it  from  its  original  use,  and  ap- 
ply it  to  such  ends  or  purposes  as  they,  in  their  discretion,  shall 
see  fit? 

"  'Sir,  you  may  destroy  this  little  institution  ;  it  is  weak  ;  it 
is  in  your  hands  !  I  know  it  is  one  of  the  lesser  lights  in  the 
literary  horizon  of  our  country.  You  may  put  it  out.  But 
if  you  do  so,  you  must  carry  through  your  work  !  You  must 
extinguish,  one  after  another,  all  those  great  lights  of  science, 
which,  for  more  than  a  century,  have  thrown  their  radiance 
over  our  land  ! 

"  '  It  is,  sir,  as  I  have  said,  a  small  college.  And  yet,  there 
are  those  who  love  it!  ' 

"  Here  the  feelings  which  he  had  thus  far  succeeded  in  keep- 
ing down,  broke  forth.  His  lips  quivered  ;  his  firm  cheeks 
trembled  with  emotion ;  his  eyes  were  filled  with  tears,  his 
voice  choked,  and  he  seemed  struggling  to  the  utmost  simply 
to  gain  that  mastery  over  himself,  which  might  save  him  from 
an  unmanly  burst  of  feeling.  I  will  not  attempt  to  give  you 


190  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

the  few  broken  words  of  tenderness  in  which  he  went  on  to 
speak  of  his  attachment  to  the  college.  The  whole  seemed  to 
be  mingled  throughout  with  the  recollections  of  father,  mother, 
brother,  and  all  the  trials  and  privations  through  which  he  had 
made  his  way  into  life.  Every  one  saw  that  it  was  wholly 
unpremeditated,  a  pressure  on  his  heart,  which  sought  relief  in 
words  and  tears. 

"  The  court-room  during  t  ese  two  or  three  minutes  pre 
sented  an  extraordinary  spectacle.  Chief  Justice  Marshall, 
with  his  tall  and  gaunt  figure  bent  over  as  if  to  catch  the  slight- 
est whisper,  the  deep  furrows  of  his  cheek  expanded  with  emo- 
tion, and  eyes  suffused  with  tears ;  Mr.  Justice  Washington  at 
his  side,  with  his  small  and  emaciated  frame  and  countenance 
more  like  marble  than  I  ever  saw  on  any  other  human  being — 
leaning  forward  with  an  eager,  troubled  look  ;  and  the  remain- 
der of  the  court,  at  the  two  extremities,  pressing,  as  it  were, 
toward  a  single  point,  while  the  audience  below  were  wrapping 
themselves  round  in  closer  folds  beneath  the  bench  to  catch 
each  look,  and  every  movement  of  the  speaker's  face.  If  a 
painter  could  give  us  the  scene  on  canvas  —  those  forms  and 
countenances,  and  Daniel  Webster  as  he  then  stood  in  the 
midst,  it  would  be  one  of  the  most  touching  pictures  in  the  his- 
tory of  eloquence.  One  thing  it  taught  me,  that  the  pathetic 
depends  not  merely  on  the  words  uttered,  but  still  more  on  the 
estimate  we  put  upon  him  who  utters  them.  There  was  not 
one  among  the  strong-minded  men  of  that  assembly  who  could 
think  it  unmanly  to  weep,  when  he  saw  standing  before  him 
the  man  who  had  made  such  an  argument,  melted  into  the  ten- 
derness of  a  child. 

"  Mr.  Webster  had  now  recovered  his  composure,  and  fix- 
ing his  keen  eye  on  the  chief  justice,  said,  in  that  deep  tone 
with  which  he  sometimes  thrilled  the  heart  of  an  audience : 

"'Sir,  I  know  not  how  others  may  feel,'  (glancing  at  the  oppo 
of  the  college  before  him,  some  nf  whom  were  its  for 


COLLEGE  CASE  CONCLUDED.  191 

mer  graduates,)  'but,  for  myself,  when  I  see  my  Alma  Mater 
surrounded,  like  Coesar  in  the  senate  house,  by  those  who  are 
reiterating  stab  upon  stab,  I  would  not,  for  this  right  hand, 
have  her  turn  to  me,  and  say,  Et  tu  quoque  mi  fili  !  And 
thou  too,  my  son!"1 

"  He  sat  down.  There  was  a  death-like  stillness  throughout 
the  room  for  some  moments ;  every  one  seemed  to  be  slowly 
recovering  himself,  and  coming  gradually  back  to  his  ordinary 
range  of  thought  and  feeling." 

Were  we  forming  a  judgment  of  this  great  address,  merely 
as  a  rhetorical  performance,  it  would  be  quite  sufficient  to  have 
the  testimony  of  literary  men  ;  but  the  philosophical  reader 
will  wish  to  know  how  it  stood  among  gentlemen  of  the  law. 
The  opinion  of  the  legal  profession,  perhaps  without  an  excep- 
tion, has  been  given  by  George  S.  Ilillard,  Esq.,  himself  a  law- 
yer of  eminence,  and  a  literary  man  of  rising  reputation.  "The 
Dartmouth  College  case,"  says  Mr.  Hillard,  "  which  has  al- 
ready been  mentioned,  may  be  briefly  referred  to  again,  since 
it  forms  an  important  era  in  Mr.  Webster's  life.  His  argu- 
ment in  that  case  stands  out  among  his  other  arguments,  as  his 
speech  in  reply  to  Mr.  Ilayne,  among  his  other  speeches.  No 
better  argument  has  been  spoken  in  the  English  tongue  in  the 
memory  of  any  living  man,  nor  is  the  child  that  is  born  to-day 
likely  to  live  to  hear  a  better.  Its  learning  is  ample,  but  not 
ostentatious  ;  its  logic  irresistible  ;  its  eloquence  vigorous  and 
lofty.  I  have  often  heard  my  revered  and  beloved  friend, 
Judge  Story,  speak  with  great  animation  of  the  effect  he  then 
produced  upon  the  court.  'For  the  first  hour,'  said  he,  'we  lis- 
tened to  him  with  perfect  astonishment ;  for  the  second  hour, 
with  perfect  delight ;  and  for  the  third  hour,  with  perfect  con- 
viction.' It  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  he  entered  the  court 
on  that  day  a  comparatively  unknown  name,  and  left  it  with 
no  rival  but  Pinckney.  All  the  words  he  spoke  on  that  occtt 
sion  have  not  been  recorded.  When  he  had  exhausted  the  ra 


192  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

sources  of  learning  and  logic,  his  mind  passed  naturally  and 
simply  into  a  strain  of  feeling  not  common  to  the  place.  Old 
recollections  and  early  associations  came  over  him,  and  the 
vision  of  his  youth  rose  up.  The  genius  of  the  institution 
where  he  was  nurtured  seemed  standing  by  his  side  in  weeds 
of  mourning,  with  a  countenance  of  sorrow.  With  suffused 
eyes,  and  faltering  voice,  he  broke  into  an  unpremeditated 
strain  of  emotion,  so  strong  and  so  deep,  that  all  who  heard  him 
were  borne  along  with  it.  Heart  answered  to  heart  as  he 
spoke,  and,  when  he  ceased,  the  silence  and  tears  of  the  impas- 
sive bench,  as  well  as  of  the  excited  audience,  were  a  tribute  to 
the  truth  and  power  of  feeling  by  which  he  had  been  inspired." 
In  the  year  1820,  the  District  of  Maine,  formerly  belonging 
to  Massachusetts,  became  a  state ;  it  was  necessary,  in  conse- 
quence of  this  fact,  that  the  manner  of  constituting  the  Massa- 
chusetts senate  should  be  revised  ;  and  this  necessity  led  to  a 
convention,  which  had  power  given  it  to  revise  the  constitution 
of  the  commonwealth.  At  that  time,  Mr.  Webster  had  been 
but  four  years  a  citizen  of  Boston ;  but  they  had  been  such 
years  of  triumph,  that  he  was  at  once  appointed  a  member  of 
the  convention.  In  that  capacity,  he  was  brought  into  iiii me- 
diate contact  with  much  of  the  first  talent  of  the  state  ;  the  ven- 
erable John  Adams,  ex-president  of  the  United  States,  now 
eighty-six  years  of  age,  was  a  member  of  the  convention  ;  but 
Mr.  Webster  was  welcomed  as  warmly  as  any  other  member 
of  the  body.  So  highly  were  his  talents  and  discretion  es- 
teemed, that  he  was  made  chairman  of  the  committee  on  oath.s 
as  a  qualification  for  office,  the  most  delicate  and  difficult  topic 
that  was  to  come  before  the  convention.  After  no  little  delib- 
eration and  discussion  in  the  committee,  he  reported  an  amend- 
ment to  the  sixth  chapter  of  the  second  part  of  the  old  consti 
tution,  the  general  import  of  which  was,  that,  instead  of  the  re- 
ligious oaths  and  ecclesiastical  subscriptions  formerly  required, 
which  shut  out  from  public  employment  all  who  did  not  make 


MEMBER   OF  CONSTITUTIONAL  CONVENTION.  19S 

an  external  profession  of  religion,  a  simple  oath  of  allegiance 
to  the  commonwealth  and  of  a  purpose  to  serve  the  state  with 
fidelity  and  integrity  was  all  that  should  afterwards  be  re- 
quired as  a  religious  qualification  for  any  office.  In  defense  of 
this  new  principle,  he  made  a  brief  but  characteristic  speech,  in 
which  he  expressly  concedes  the  right  which  the  people  have, 
if  the.y  see  fit,  to  affix  any  qualification,  religious  or  otherwise, 
as  a  test  of  office ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  he  argues  against  the 
expediency  of  any  such  test,  particularly  in  Massachusetts, 
where  the  general  sentiment  of  the  people  is  favorable  to  Chris- 
tianity. He  thinks,  however,  that  some  recognition  of  the 
Christian  religion  ought  to  be  comprised  within  the  constitution 
of  the  state ;  and  he  is  the  more  willing  to  dispense  with  the 
test  oath,  because  in  the  new  instrument  there  is  retained  a  pas- 
sage, which  makes  the  strongest  acknowledgment  of  the  provi- 
dence of  God  and  the  blessings  of  his  revealed  word.  "  I  be- 
lieve I  have  stated,"  says  Mr.  Webster,  in  the  conclusion  of  his 
speech,  "the  substance  of  the  reasons  which  appeared  to  have 
weight  with  the  committee.  For  my  own  part,  finding  this 
declaration  in  the  constitution,  and  hearing  of  no  practical  evil 
resulting  from  it,  I  should  have  been  willing  to  retain  it,  unless 
considerable  objection  had  been  made  to  it.  If  others  were 
satisfied  with  it,  I  should  be.  I  do  not  consider  it,  however,  es- 
sential to  retain  it,  as  there  is  another  part  of  the  constitution 
which  recognizes,  in  the  fullest  manner,  the  benefits  which  civil 
society  derives  from  those  Christian  institutions  which  cherish 
piety,  morality,  and  religion.  I  am  clearly  of  opinion,  that  we 
should  not  strike  out  of  the  constitution  all  recognition  of  the 
Christian  religion.  I  am  desirous,  in  so  solemn  a  transaction  as 
the  establishment  of  a  constitution,  that  we  should  keep  in  it  an 
expression  of  our  respect  and  attachment  to  Christianity — not, 
indeed,  to  any  of  its  peculiar  forms,  but  to  its  general  principles." 
While  a  member  of  this  convention,  Mr.  Webster  delivered 
another  speech,  on  the  Basis  of  the  Senate,  which  has  been 


194  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

made  the  foundation  of  a  charge,  long  retained  and  frequently 
repeated,  against  his  political  reputation.  It  is  the  charge,  that 
at  this  time,  and  in  this  critical  business,  he  gravely  advocated 
the  propriety  of  making  property  the  basis  of  representation. 
This  charge  is  without  foundation.  It  has  been  urged  chiefly 
by  newspaper  politicians,  who,  perhaps,  never  read  the  speech 
which  was  made  the  ground  of  the  charge.  It  has  been  made, 
and  urged,  and  repeated  by  men,  who  had  no  great  amount  of 
discrimination,  or  who  did  not  intend  to  give  a  perfectly  fair 
account  of  Mr.  Webster.  The  truth  is,  in  fact,  not  that  Mr. 
Webster  would  have  made  property  the  basis  of  representa- 
tion in  Massachusetts,  but  that  he  thought  it  wise  to  make  it  o 
basis —  that  property  should  be  respected  as  well  as  persons — 
in  the  constitution  of  a  mixed  government,  -where  persons  and 
property  are  the  objects  of  all  legislation,  and  where  prop- 
erty has  to  pay  for  the  protection  which  the  government  gives 
to  persons.  The  doctrine  he  advocated  was  only  the  doctrine 
of  the  Revolution,  that  representation  and  taxation  should  al- 
ways go  together.  This  principle,  however,  he  did  not  wish  to 
apply  to  representation  in  general,  but  only  to  the  constitution 
of  the  senate,  the  senate  of  Massachusetts.  As  the  house,  ac- 
cording to  other  provisions  of  the  new  constitution,  was  to  be 
the  popular  branch,  representing  the  people  as  persons,  he 
thought  it  expedient  that  the  senate  should  represent  the  same 
people  as  holders  of  property,  that  both  property  and  persons 
might  be  represented,  and  thus  effect  a  balance  between  the 
two  great  interests  which  are  known  as  the  exclusive  topics  in 
all  governments,  in  all  jurisprudence,  in  all  legislation.  He 
thought  with  Aristotle,  with  Bacon,  with  Sir  Walter  Raleigh, 
with  Montesquieu,  with  Harrington,  whom  the  fathers  of  the 
nation  most  admired,  most  read,  most  trusted,  not  that  the 
property  of  the  rich  only  should  be  acknowledged  as  an  exist- 
ing fact  in  a  free  government,  but  that  all  the  property  of  the 
commonwealth,  the  poor  man's  shilling  as  much  as  the  land- 


ORATION    AT    PLYMOUTH  195 

lord's  acre,  should  be  recognized,  respected  and  represented 
somewhere;  and,  in  the  case  before  him,  and  for  the  reason 
just  mentioned,  he  thought  that  that  recognition,  respect  and 
representation  could,  with  the  greatest  propriety,  be  permitted 
to  exist  in  the  senate. 

It  was  while  Mr.  Webster  was  a  member  of  the  constitu- 
tional convention  of  Massachusetts,  that  he  was  called  upon  by 
the  Pilgrim  Society  at  Plymouth,  to  deliver  an  address  on  the 
occurrence  of  the  centennial  celebration  of  the  landing  of  the 
Pilgrim  Fathers.  The  invitation  was  an  honorable  but  merited 
distinction  for  Mr.  Webster.  If  the  reader  will  remember 
how  many  and  what  able  men,  eloquent  men,  men  able  and 
eloquent  in  the  highest  stations,  were  then  living  in  New  En- 
gland, and  even  in  Massachusetts,  he  will  see  how  great  an 
honor  it  was  to  a  young  man,  then  but  thirty -eight  years  of  age, 
to  be  summoned  from  the  midst  of  his  superiors  in  age  and 
office  to  this  high  duty.  Massachusetts  had  no  festival,  as  she 
has  none  now,  comparable  with  this  for  the  hold  it  has  upon 
the  sympathies  of  the  people.  It  is  a  festival,  too,  of  the  whole 
nation.  All  Americans  turn  to  it,  and  turn  to  the  ever  mem- 
orable day,  the  22d  of  December,  as  the  birth-day,  not  of  one 
republic,  but  of  a  continent  of  republics.  Where  was  the  man, 
who,  with  fitting  character,  dignity  and  eloquence,  could  stand 
up  and  represent  Massachusetts,  represent  New  England,  rep- 
resent every  state  in  the  union,  and  do  them  all  honor  in  the 
service  1  It  was  a  young  man,  the  son  of  a  New  England 
fanner,  who,  but  a  few  years  before,  had  been  keeping  an  acad- 
emy in  an  obscure  village,  that  he  might  assist  a  brother  and 
pay  up  the  expense  of  his  own  education.  But  it  was  Daniel 
Webster.  In  that  name,  even  then,  after  all  that  had  been 
seen  of  him,  and  heard  from  his  lips,  there  was  a  confidence 
that  would  have  trusted  him  anywhere,  on  any  emergency,  on 
the  most  august  occasion.  Well  did  he  answer  to  that  confi 
dence.  Nobly  did  he  meet  the  expectations  of  his  friends 
VOL.  i.  I  13 


196  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

and  the  demands  of  every  American.  The  address  then  deliv 
ered  needs  no  comment.  No  extract  will  do  it  justice.  No 
extract  is  needed.  All  Americans,  even  the  children  of  our 
schools,  know  it  by  heart.  "  The  felicity  and  spirit,"  says  his 
friend,  Mr.  Everett,  "  with  which  its  descriptive  portions  are 
executed  ;  the  affecting  tribute  which  it  pays  to  the  memory  of 
the  Pilgrims;  the  masterly  exposition  and  analysis  of  those 
institutions  to  which  the  prosperity  of  New  England,  under 
Providence,  is  owing ;  the  eloquent  inculcation  of  those  great 
principles  of  republicanism  on  which  our  American  common- 
wealths are  founded ;  the  instructive  survey  of  the  past,  the 
sublime  anticipations  of  the  future  of  America,  have  long  since 
given  this  discourse  a  classical  celebrity.  Several  of  its  soul- 
stirring  passages  have  become  as  household  words  through- 
out the  country.  They  are  among  the  most  favorite  extracts 
contained  in  the  school-books.  An  entire  generation  of  young 
men  have  derived  from  this  noble  performance  some  of  their 
first  lessons  in  the  true  principles  of  American  republicanism. 
It  obtained  at  once  a  wide  circulation  throughout  the  country,  and 
gave  to  Mr.  Webster  a  posititon  among  the  popular  writers  and 
speakers  of  the  United  States  scarcely  below  that  which  he  had 
already  attained  as  a  lawyer  and  statesman.  It  is  doubted 
whether  any  extra  professional  literary  effort,  by  a  public  man, 
has  attained  equal  celebrity."  The  reader  should  remember, 
as  he  reads  this  judgment,  that  it  is  Edward  Everett,  himself 
equal  to  any  living  American  in  the  same  department,  who 
awards  it. 

The  next  legal  case,  that  claimed  the  attention  of  Mr.  Web- 
ster, was  that  of  James  Prescott,  judge  of  probate  of  the  county 
of  Middlesex,  who  was  tried  on  an  impeachment  before  the 
senate  of  Massacnusetts.  The  defense  set  up,  and  the  speech 
delivered  by  Mr  Webster,  can  be  referred  to  as  being  pre- 
cisely what  the  case  demanded.  This  was  a  peculiarity  of  the 
gi-eat  advocate.  He  always  met  the  occasion.  He  met  it  fully 


DEFENSE  OF  JUDGE  PRKSCOTT.  197 

but  exactly.  He  never  tried  to  outdo  the  demand  of  his  caso. 
for  the  sake  of  his  reputation.  There  was  no  excess  of  learning 
no  striking  of  heavy  blows  merely  to  show  that  he  could  strike 
them,  no  indulgence  of  the  low  vanity  of  the  mere  barrister, 
but  everything  that  could,  in  any  way,  help  his  client.  His  ex- 
pertness  as  a  manager  of  a  trial,  and  his  sagacity  as  a  speaker, 
in  getting  hold  of  any  accidental  fact,  or  circumstance,  that  could 
aid  him  in  his  work,  were  exhibited  to  good  advantage  in  this 
defense.  The  concluding  paragraphs  of  his  peroration  may 
be  quoted  as  a  fair  specimen  of  his  power  of  appeal  to  the 
highest  sentiments  and  noblest  feelings  of  a  tribunal : 

"  Mr.  President,  the  case  is  closed.  The  fate  of  the  respond- 
ent is  in  your  hands.  It  is  for  you  now  to  say,  whether,  from 
the  law  and  the  facts  as  they  have  appeared  before  you,  you 
will  proceed  to  disgrace  and  disfravhise  him.  If  your  duty 
calls  on  you  to  convict  him,  let  justice  be  done,  and  convict 
him  ;  but,  1  adjure  you,  let  it  be  a  clear,  undoubted  case.  Let 
it  be  so  for  his  sake,  for  you  are  robbing  him  of  that  for  which, 
with  all  your  high  powers,  you  can  yield  him  no  compensation  ; 
let  it  be  so  for  your  own  sakes,  for  the  responsibility  of  this 
day's  judgment  is  one  which  you  must  carry  with  you  through 
life.  For  myself,  I  am  willing  here  to  relinquish  the  character 
of  an  advocate,  and  to  express  opinions  by  which  I  am  prepared 
to  be  bound  as  a  citizen  and  a  man.  And  I  say  upon  my  honor 
and  conscience,  that  I  see  not  how,  with  the  law  and  constitu- 
tion for  your  guides,  you  can  pronounce  the  respondent  guilty. 
I  declare  that  I  have  seen  no  case  of  wilful  and  corrupt  official 
misconduct,  set  forth  according  to  the  requisitions  of  the  con- 
stitution, and  proved  according  to  the  common  rules  of  evidence. 
I  see  many  things  imprudent  and  ill-judged  ;  many  things  that  1 
could  wish  had  been  otherwise;  but  corruption  and  crime  I  do 
not  see. 

"  Sir,  the  prejudices  of  the  day  will  soon  be  forgotten  ;  tho 
passions,  i/  any  there  be,  which  have  excited  or  favored  this 


WEBSra   AXD    BOS   liASTEK-FIECKSw 

ptmuLUlinBi  will  subside;  but  the  consequence  of  the  judgment 
JOB  are  about  to  lender  will  outlive  both  them  and  you.  The 
respondent  is  now  brought,  a  single,  unprotected  individual,  to 
this  formidable  bar  of  judgment,  to  stand  against  the  power  and 
authority  of  the  slate.  I  know  you  can  crush  him,  as  he  stands 
before  yon,  and  clothed  as  you  are  with  die  sovertignity  of  the 
state.  Ton  have  die  power  'to  change  his  countenance  and  to 
send  him  away.*  Nor  do  I  remind  you,  that  your  judgment  is 
to  be  ujmkyil  by  die  con -inanity ;  and,  as  you  have  summoned 
him  fir  trial  to  das  Ugh  tribunal,  dial  you  are  soon  to  descend 
yourselves  from  these  seats  of  justice,  and  stand  before  the 
higher  tribunal  of  die  world.  I  would  not  &il  so  much  in  re- 
spect to  das  honorable  court  as  to  hint  that  it  could  pronounce 
%  sentence  which  die  community'  will  reverse.  No,  sir,  it  is 
net  the  world's  revision  wl  leh  I  would  call  on  you  to  regard ; 
but  dot  of  your  own  consciences,  when  years  have  gone  by  and 
yna  shall  look  back  on  die  aenfancr.  yon  are  about  to  reader. 
If  you  send  away  die  respondent,  condemned  and  sentenced, 
from  your  bar,  you  are  yet  to  meet  him  in  the  world  on  which 
you  cast  him  out.  You  wfll  be  called  to  behold  him  a  disgrace 
to  his  &mfly.  a  sorrow  and  a  shame  to  his  children,  a  living 
iiuntiJH  of  grief  and  agony  to  hJmadC 

"If  you  shaD  d*en  be  able  to  behold  him  only  as  an  unjust 
judge,  whom  vengeance  has  on1  itiWn  and  justice  has  Minted, 
you  will  be  able  to  look  upon  him,  not  without  pity,  but  yet 
widuot  remorse.  But  ^  on  the  odier  hand,  you  shall  see, 
•huM.ru  and  wherever  you  meet  him,  a  victim  of  prejudice 
or  of  passion,  a  sacrifice  to  a  transient  excitement ;  if  you  shall 
see  in  Mm  a  man  for  whose  condemnation  any  provision  of  die 
oniilMi^iuu  has  been  violated  or  any  principle  of  law  been 
broken  down,  diem  wfll  he  be  able,  humble  and  low  as  may  be 
his  condition,  then  wfll  he  be  able  to  turn  die  current  of  com- 
passion backward,  and  to  look  widi  pity  on  those  who  have  been 
If  you  are  about  to  visit  this  respondent  with  a 


199 

judgment  which  ahal!  blast  his  hose;  if  the  bosoms  of  the 
innocent  and  the  amiable  are  to  be  made  to  bleed  aider  your 
infliction,  I  beseech  yoa  to  be  able  to  slate  dear  and 
grounds  fcr  your  proceeding.  Prejudice  an 
transitory,  and  wfll  pass  away.  Political  expediency, 
of  judicature,  is  a  false  and  boflow  principle,  and  will  never 
satisfy  the  conscience  of  him  who  b  fearful  that  be  may  have 
given  a  hasty  judgment.  I  earnestly  entreat  you,  far  your  own 
sakes.  to  possess  yourselves  of  solid  ™c*"""«%  founded  in  troth 
and  justice,  for  the  judgment  yon  pronounce,  which  yon  can 
carry  with  yoa  till  yon  go  down  into  your  graves  5  '•'•"'•'• 
which  it  will  require  DO  argument  to  revive,  no  NpuhHiy,  no 
excitement,  no  regard  to  popular  firaor,  to  render  satisfactory 
to  yonr  consciences ;  reasons  which  you  can  appeal  to  hi  every 
crisis  of  your  lives,  and  which  shall  be  able  to  aanure  you,  in 
your  own  great  extremity,  that  TOO  have  not  judged  a  fellow- 
creature  without  merer. 

^  r.  1  have  done  with  the  case  of  this  individual,  and  now 
leave  it  in  yonr  hands.  But  I  would  yet  once  more  appeal  to 
you  as  public  men ;  as  statesmen ;  as  men  of  enlightened 
minds,  capable  of  a  large  view  of  things,  and  of  faruuing  the 
remote  consequences  of  important  transactions ;  and,  as  such, 
I  would  most  earnestly  implore  you  to  consider  rally  of  the 
judgment  you  may  pronounce.  Ton  are  about  to  give  a  con- 
struction to  constitutional  provisions  which  may  adhere  to  that 
instrument  for  ages,  either  for  good  or  eviL  I  may  perhaps 
overrate  the  importance  of  this  occasion  to  the  public  welfare ; 
but  1  confess  it  does  appear  to  me  that,  if  this  body  gne  its 
sanction  to  some  of  the  principles  which  have  been  advanced 
on  this  occasion,  then  there  is  a  power  in  the  state  above  the 
constitution  and  the  law ;  a  power  essentially  aibiUury  and 
despotic,  the  exercise  of  which  may  be  most  dangerous.  If 
;mpeachment  be  not  under  the  rale  of  the  constitution  and  the 
laws,  then  may  we  tremble,  not  only  for  those  who  nun  be 


200  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

impeached,  but  for  all  others.  If  the  full  benefit  of  every  con 
stitutional  provision  be  not  extended  to  the  respondent,  his  case 
becomes  the  case  of  all  the  people  of  the  commonwealth.  The 
constitution  is  their  constitution.  They  have  made  it  for  their 
own  protection,  and  for  his  among  the  rest.  They  are  not  eager 
for  his  conviction.  They  desire  not  his  ruin.  If  he  be  con- 
demned, without  having  his  offenses  set  forth  in  the  manner 
which  they,  by  their  constitution  have  prescribed,  and  in  the 
manner  which  they,  by  their  laws,  have  ordained,  then  not  only 
is  he  condemned  unjustly,  but  the  rights  of  the  whole  people 
are  disregarded.  For  the  sake  of  the  people  themselves,  there- 
fore, I  would  resist  all  attempts  to  convict  by  straining  tho 
laws,  or  getting  over  their  prohibitions.  I  hold  up  before  him 
the  broad  shield  of  the  constitution ;  if  through  that  he  be 
pierced  and  fall,  he  will  be  but  one  sufferer  in  a  common  ca- 
tastrophe." 

On  the  night  of  the  6th  of  August,  1830,*  Mr.  Webster 
delivered  his  argument  on  the  trial  of  John  Francis  Knapp,  for 
the  murder  of  Joseph  White,  Esq.,  of  Salem,  in  the  court-house 
of  Essex  county,  Massachusetts.  This  argument  is  regarded  as 
the  great  advocate's  master-piece  in  this  department  of  his  pro- 
fession. "  The  record  of  the  causes  c^lebres  of  no  country  or 
age,"  says  Mr.  Everett,  "  will  furnish  either  a  more  thrilling 
narrative,  or  a  forensic  effort  of  greater  ability."  The  narra- 
tive is  from  the  pen  of  the  late  Hon.  Benjamin  Merrill,  of  Sa- 
lem, who  was  connected  with  the  trial ;  and  it  is  here  given, 
with  only  a  slight  abridgment,  as  it  is  the  only  existing  key  to 
that  wonderful  speech,  which  has  been  looked  upon,  for  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century,  not  merely  by  a  biographer,  but  by  all  the 
legal  profession  of  the  country,  as  Mr.  Webster's  greatest  and 
grandest  effort  as  a  criminal  lawyer : 

*  Mr.  Everett,  by  mistake,  says  the  6th  of  April,  1830  making  the  trial  come  th« 
day  before  the  murder. 


TRIAL  OF  JOHN  FRANCIS  KNAPP.  201 

"Joseph  White,  Esq,"  says  the  narrator,  "was  ft.und  mur 
dered  in  his  bed,  in  his  mansion-house,  on  the  morning  of  the 
7th  of  April,  1830.  He  was  a  wealthy  merchant  of  Salem, 
eighty-two  years  of  age,  and  had  for  many  years  given  up  ac- 
tive business.  His  servant-man  rose  that  morning  at  six  o'clock, 
and  on  going  down  into  the  kitchen,  and  opening  the  shutters 
of  the  window,  saw  that  the  back  window  of  the  east  parlor 
was  open,  and  that  a  plank  was  raised  to  the  window  from  the 
back  yard  ;  he  then  went  into  the  parlor,  but  saw  no  trace  of 
any  person  having  been  there.  He  went  to  the  apartment  of 
the  maid-servant,  and  told  her,  and  then  into  Mr.  White's  cham- 
ber by  its  back  door,  and  saw  that  the  door  of  his  chamber, 
leading  into  the  front  entry,  was  open.  On  approaching  the 
bed  he  found  the  bed-clothes  turned  down,  and  Mr.  White  dead, 
his  countenance  pallid,  and  his  night-clothes  and  bed  drenched  in 
blood.  He  hastened  to  the  neighboring  houses  to  make  known 
the  event.  He  and  the  maid-servant  were  the  only  persons 
who  slept  in  the  house  that  night,  except  Mr.  White  himself, 
whose  niece,  Mrs.  Beckfbrd,  his  housekeeper,  was  then  absent 
on  a  visit  to  her  daughter,  at  Wenham. 

"  The  physicians  and  the  coroner's  jury,  who  were  called  to 
examine  the  body,  found  on  it  thirteen  stabs,  made  as  if  by  a 
sharp  dirk  or  poniard,  and  the  appearance  of  a  heavy  blow  on 
the  left  temple,  which  had  fractured  the  skull,  but  not  broken 
the  skin.  The  body  was  cold,  and  appeared  to  have  been  life- 
less many  hours. 

"  On  examining  the  apartments  of  the  house,  it  did  not  ap- 
pear that  any  valuable  articles  had  been  taken,  or  the  house 
ransacked  for  them  ;  there  was  a  rouleau  of  doubloons  in  an 
iron  chest  in  his  chamber,  and  costly  plate  in  other  apartments, 
none  of  which  was  missing. 

"  The  perpetration  of  such  an  atrocious  crime,  in  the  most 
populous  and  central  part  of  the  town  and  in  the  most 
compactly  built  street,  and  under  circumstances  indicting 


202  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

the  utmost  coolness,  deliberation,  and  audacity,  deeply  agi- 
tated and  aroused  the  whole  community  ;  ingenuity  was  baf 
fled  in  attempting  even  to  conjecture  a  motive  for  the  deed ; 
and  all  the  citizens  were  led  to  fear  that  the  same  fate  might 
await  them  in  the  defenseless  and  helpless  hours  of  slumber. 
For  several  days,  persons  passing  through  the  streets  might 
hear  the  continual  sound  of  the  hammer,  while  carpenters  and 
smiths  were  fixing  bolts  to  doors  and  fastenings  to  windows. 
Many,  for  defense,  furnished  themselves  with  cutlasses,  fire- 
arms, and  watch-dogs.  Large  rewards  for  the  detection  of  the 
author  or  authors  of  the  murder  were  offered  by  the  heirs  of 
the  deceased,  by  the  selectmen  of  the  town,  and  by  the  gov- 
ernor of  the  state.  The  citizens  held  a  public  meeting,  and  ap- 
pointed a  committee  of  vigilance,  of  twenty-seven  members,  to 
make  all  possible  exertions  to  ferret  out  the  offenders. 

"  While  the  public  mind  was  thus  excited  and  anxious,  it 
was  announced  that  a  bold  attempt  at  highway  robbery  was 
made  in  Wenham  by  three  footpads,  on  Joseph  J.  Knapp,  Jr., 
and  John  Francis  Knapp,  on  the  evening  of  the  27th  of  April, 
while  they  were  returning  in  a  chaise  from  Salem  to  their  resi- 
dence in  Wenham.  They  appeared  before  the  investigating 
committee,  and  testified  that,  after  nine  o'clock,  near  the  Wen- 
ham  Pond,  they  discovered  three  men  approaching.  One  came 
near,  seized  the  bridle,  and  stopped  the  horse,  while  the  other 
two  came,  one  on  each  side,  and  seized  a  trunk  in  the  bottom 
of  the  chaise.  Frank  Knapp  drew  a  sword  from  his  cane  and 
made  a  thrust  at  one,  and  Joseph  with  the  but-end  of  his  whip 
gave  the  other  a  heavy  blow  across  the  face.  This  bold  resist- 
ance made  them  fall  back.  Joseph  sprang  from  the  chaise  to 
assail  the  robbers.  One  of  them  then  gave  a  shrill  whLstle,  when 
they  fled,  and,  leaping  over  the  wall,  were  soon  k>st  in  the 
darkness.  One  had  a  weapon  like  an  ivory  dirk-handle,  was 
clad  in  a  sailor's  short  jacket,  cap,  and  had  whiskers ;  another 
wore  a  long  coat,  with  bright  buttons ;  all  throe  were  ijood- 


TRIAL  OF  KNAPP  CONTINUED.  203 

si/ed  men.  Frank,  too,  sprung  from  the  chaise,  and  pursued 
with  vigor,  but  all  in  vain. 

"  The  account  of  this  unusual  and  bold  attempt  at  robbery, 
thus  given  by  the  Knapps,  was  immediately  published  in  the 
Salem  newspapers,  with  the  editorial  remark,  that  '  these  gen- 
tlemen are  well  known  in  this  town,  and  their  respectability 
and  veracity  are  not  questioned  by  any  of  our  citizens.' 

"  Not  the  slightest  clew  to  the  murder  could  be  found  for 
several  weeks,  and  the  mystery  seemed  to  be  impenetrable. 
At  length  a  rumor  reached  the  ear  of  the  committee  that  a 
prisoner  in  the  jail  at  New  Bedford,  seventy  miles  from  Salem, 
confined  there  on  a  charge  of  shop-lifting,  had  intimated  that  he 
could  make  important  disclosures.  A  confidential  messenger 
was  immediately  sent,  to  ascertain  what  he  knew  on  the  sub- 
ject. The  prisoner's  name  was  Hatch  ;  he  had  been  commit- 
ted before  the  murder.  He  stated  that,  some  months  before 
the  murder,  while  he  was  at  large,  he  had  associated  in  Salem 
with  Richard  Crowninshield,  Jr.,  of  Danvers,  and  had  often 
heard  Crowninshield  express  his  intention  to  destroy  the  life  of 
Mr.  White.  Crowninshield  was  a  young  man,  of  bad  reputa- 
tion ;  though  he  had  never  been  convicted  of  any  offense,  he 
\v;is  strongly  suspected  of  several  heinous  robberies.  He  was 
of  dark  and  reserved  deportment,  temperate  and  wicked,  daring 
and  wary,  subtle  and  obdurate,  of  great  adroitness,  boldness, 
and  self-command.  He  had  for  several  years  frequented  the 
haunts  of  vice  in  Salem  ;  and  though  he  was  often  spoken  of  as 
a  dangerous  man,  his  person  was  known  to  few,  for  he  never 
walked  the  streets  by  daylight.  Among  his  few  associates,  he 
was  a  leader  and  a  despot. 

"The  disclosures  of  Hatch  received  credit.  When  the  su- 
pivme  court  met  at  Ipswich,  the  attorney-general,  Morton, 
moved  for  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus  ad  testif.,  and  Hatch  was 
carried  in  chains  from  New  Bedford  before  the  grand  jury,  and 
on  his  testimony  an  indictment  was  found  against  Crownin- 

VOL.  I.  I* 


204  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTKli-PIECES. 

shield.  Other  witnesses  testified  that,  on  the  night  of  the  min- 
der, his  brother,  George  Crowninshield,  Colonel  Benjamin  Sel- 
man,  of  Marblehead,  and  Daniel  Chase,  of  Lynn,  were  together 
in  Salem,  at  a  gambling-house  usually  frequented  by  Richard  ; 
these  were  indicted  as  accomplices  in  the  crime.  They  were  all 
arrested  on  the  2d  of  May,  arraigned  on  the  indictment,  and 
committed  to  prison  to  await  the  sitting  of  a  court  that  should 
hnve  jurisdiction  of  the  offense. 

"The  committee  of  vigilance,  however,  continued  to  hold 
frequent  meetings  in  order  to  discover  further  proof,  for  it  was 
doubted  by  many  whether  the  evidence  already  obtained  would 
be  sufficient  to  convict  the  accused. 

"  A  fortnight  afterwards,  on  the  15th  of  May,  Captain  Joseph 
J.  Knapp,  a  shipmaster  and  merchant,  a  man  of  good  character, 
received  by  mail  the  following  letter : 

"'CHARLES  GRANT,  JR.,  TO  JOSEPH  J.  KNAPP. 

'"Belfast,  May  12,  1830. 

"'DEAR  SIR — I  have  taken  the  pen  at  this  time  to  address 
an  utter  stranger,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem  to  you,  it  is  for 
the  purpose  of  requesting  the  loan  of  three  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars,  for  which  I  can  give  you  no  security  but  my  word,  and 
in  this  case  consider  this  to  be  sufficient.  My  call  for  money 
at  this  time  is  pressing,  or  I  would  not  trouble  you ;  but  with 
that  sum,  I  have  the  prospect  of  turning  it  to  so  much  advan- 
tage, as  to  be  able  to  refund  it  with  interest  in  the  course  of 
six  months.  At  all  events,  I  think  it  will  be  for  your  interest 
to  comply  with  my  request,  and  that  immediately — that  is,  not 
to  put  off  any  longer  than  you  receive  this.  Then  set  down 
and  inclose  me  the  money  with  as  much  dispatch  as  possible, 
for  your  own  interest.  This,  sir,  is  my  advice  ;  and  if  you  do 
not  comply  with  it,  the  short  period  between  now  and  Novem 
ber  will  convince  you  that  you  have  denied  a  request,  the  grant- 
ing of  which  will  never  injure  you,  the  refusal  of  which  will 


TRIAL  OF  KNAPP  CONTINUED.  205 

ruin  you.  Are  you  surprised  at  this  assertion  —  rest  assured 
that  I  make  it,  raserving  to  myself  the  reasons  and  a  series  of 
facts,  which  are  founded  on  such  a  bottom  as  will  bid  defiance 
io  property  or  quality.  It  is  useless  for  me  to  enter  into  a  dis- 
cussion of  facts  which  must  inevitably  harrow  up  your  soul. 
No,  I  will  merely  tell  you  that  I  am  acquainted  with  your 
brother  Franklin,  and  also  the  business  that  he  was  transacting 
for  you  on  the  2d  of  April  last ;  and  that  I  think  that  you  was 
very  extravagant  in  giving  one  thousand  dollars  to  the  person 
that  would  execute  the  business  for  you.  But  you  know  best 
about  that ;  you  see  that  such  things  will  leak  out.  To  con- 
clude, sir,  I  will  inform  you  that  there  is  a  gentleman  of  my 
acquaintance  in  Salem,  that  will  observe  that  you  do  not  leave 
town  before  the  first  of  June,  giving  you  sufficient  time  between 
now  and  then  to  comply  with  my  request ;  and  if  I  do  not  re- 
ceive a  line  from  you,  together  with  the  above  sum,  before  the 
22d  of  this  month,  I  shall  wait  upon  you  with  an  assistant.  I 
have  said  enough  to  convince  you  of  my  knowledge,  and 
merely  inform  you  that  you  can,  when  you  answer,  be  as  brief 
as  possible. 

"'Direct  yours  to 

"'CHARLES  GRANT,  JR.,  of  Prospect,  Maine.' 

"  This  letter  was  an  unintelligible  enigma  to  Captain  Knapp  : 
he  knew  no  man  of  the  name  of  Charles  Grant,  Jr.,  and  had  no 
acquaintance  at  Belfast,  a  town  in  Maine,  two  hundred  miles 
distant  from  Salem.  After  poring  over  it  in  vain,  he  handed 
it  to  his  son,  Nathaniel  Phippen  Knapp,  a  young  lawyer ;  to 
him  also  the  letter  was  an  inexplicable  riddle.  The  receiving 
of  such  a  threatening  letter,  at  a  time  when  so  many  felt  inse- 
cure, and  were  apprehensive  of  danger,  demanded  their  atten- 
tion. Captain  Knapp  and  his  son  Phippen,  therefore,  conclu- 
ded to  ride  to  Wenham,  seven  miles  distant,  and  show  the 
etter  to  Captain  Knapp's  other  two  sons,  Joseph  J.  Knaop,  Jr., 


£00  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

and  John  Francis  Knapp,  who  were  then  residing  at  Wouham 
with  Mrs.  Beckford,  the  niece  and  late  housekeeper  of  Mr. 
White,  and  the  mother  of  the  wife  of  J.  J.  Knapp,  Jr.  The 
latter  perused  the  letter,  told  his  father  it  '  contained  a  devilish 
lot  of  trash,'  and  requested  him  to  hand  it  to  the  committee 
of  vigilance.  Captain  Knapp,  on  his  return  to  Salem  that 
evening,  accordingly  delivered  the  letter  to  the  chairman  of  the 
committee. 

"  The  next  day  J.  J.  Knapp,  Jr.,  went  to  Salem,  and  re- 
quested one  of  his  friends  to  drop  into  the  Salem  post-office 
the  two  following  pseudonymous  letters. 

"'May  13,  1830. 

"'GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  COMMITTEE  OF  VIGILANCE, — Hear- 
ing that  you  have  taken  up  four  young  men  on  suspicion  of 
being  concerned  in  the  murder  of  Mr.  White,  I  think  it  time  to 
inform  you  that  Stephen  White  came  to  me  one  night  and  told 
me,  if  I  would  remove  the  old  gentleman,  he  would  give  me 
five  thousand  dollars ;  he  said  he  was  afraid  he  would  alter  his 
will  if  he  lived  any  longer.  I  told  him  1  would  do  it,  but  I 
was  afeared  to  go  into  the  house,  so  he  said  he  would  go  with 
me,  that  he  would  try  to  get  into  the  house  in  the  evening  and 
open  the  window,  would  then  go  home  and  go  to  bed  and  meet 
me  again  about  eleven.  I  found  him,  and  we  both  went  into 
his  chamber.  I  struck  him  on  the  head  with  a  heavy  piece  of 
lead,  and  then  stabbed  him  with  a  dirk ;  he  made  the  finishing 
strokes  with  another.  He  promised  to  send  me  the  money 
next  evening,  and  has  not  sent  it  yet,  which  is  the  reason  that 
I  mention  this.  Yours,  &c., 

'GRANT.' 

"This  letter  was  directed  on  the  outside  to  the  'Hon.  Gideon 
Barstow,'  Salem,  and  put  into  the  post-office  on  Sunday  even- 
ning,  May  16,  1830.' 


TRIAL  OF  KNAPP  CONTINUED.  20*7 

"'Lynn,  May  12,  1830. 

"'Mr.  White  will  send  the  $5,000,  or  a  part  of  it,  before  to- 
morrow night,  or  suffer  the  painful  consequences. 

'"N.  CLAXTON,  4iH.' 

"  This  letter  was  addressed  to  the  '  Hon.  Stephen  White, 
Salem,  Mass.,'  and  was  also  put  into  the  post-office  in  Salem 
on  Sunday  evening. 

"  When  Knapp  delivered  these  letters  to  his  friend,  he  said 
his  father  had  received  an  anonymous  letter,  and  '  What  I 
want  you  for  is  to  put  these  letters  in  the  post-office  in  order 
to  nip  this  silly  affair  in  the  bud.' 

"  The  Hon.  Stephen  White,  mentioned  in  these  letters,  was 
a  nephew  of  Joseph  White,  and  the  legatee  of  the  principal  part 
of  this  large  property. 

"  When  the  committee  of  vigilance  read  and  considered  the 
letter  purporting  to  be  signed  by  Charles  Grant,  Jr.,  which  had 
been  delivered  to  them  by  Captain  Knapp,  they  were  impressed 
with  the  belief  that  it  contained  a  clew  which  might  lead  to  im- 
portant disclosures.  As  they  had  spared  no  pains  or  expense 
in  their  investigations,  they  immediately  despatched  a  discreet 
messenger  to  Prospect,  in  Maine ;  he  explained  his  business 
confidentially  to  the  post-master  there,  deposited  a  letter  ad- 
dressed to  Charles  Grant,  Jr.,  and  awaited  the  call  for  Grant  to 
receive  it.  He  soon  called  for  it,  when  an  officer,  stationed  in 
the  house,  stepped  forward  and  arrested  Grant.  On  examining 
him,  it  appeared  that  his  true  name  was  Palmer,  a  young 
man  of  genteel  appearance,  resident  in  the  adjoining  town  of 
Belfast.  He  had  been  a  convict  in  Maine,  and  had  served  a 
term  in  the  state's  prison  in  that  state.  Conscious  that  the  cir- 
cumstances justified  the  belief  that  he  had  had  a  hand  in  the 
murder,  he  readily  made  known,  while  he  protested  his  own 
innocence,  that  he  could  unfold  the  whole  mystery.  He  then 
disclosed  that  he  had  been  an  associate  of  R.  Crowninshield,  Jr. 


208  WEBSTKR    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

and  George  Crowninshield ;  had  spent  part  of  the  winter  at 
Danvers  and  Salem,  under  the  name  of  Carr  ;  part  of  the  time 
he  had  been  their  inmate,  concealed  in  their  father's  house  at 
Danvers ;  that  on  the  2d  of  April  he  saw  from  the  windows 
of  the  house  Frank  Knapp  and  a  young  man  named  Allen  ride 
up  to  the  house ;  that  George  walked  away  with  Frank,  and 
Richard  with  Allen  ;  that  on  their  return,  George  told  Richard 
that  Frank  wished  them  to  undertake  to  kill  Mr.  White,  and 
that  J.  J.  Knapp,  Jr.,  would  pay  one  thousand  dollars  for  the 
job.  They  proposed  various  modes  of  executing  it,  and  asked 
Palmer  to  be  concerned,  which  he  declined.  George  said  the 
housekeeper  would  be  away  at  the  time ;  that  the  object  of  Jo- 
seph J.  Knapp,  Jr.,  was  to  destroy  the  will,  because  it  gave 
most  of  the  property  to  Stephen  White ;  that  Joseph  J.  Knapp, 
Jr.,  was  first  to  destroy  the  will ;  that  he  could  get  from  the 
housekeeper  the  keys  of  the  iron  chest  in  which  it  was  kept ; 
that  Frank  called  again  the  same  day,  in  a  chaise,  and  rode 
away  with  Richard ;  and  that  on  the  night  of  the  murder 
Palmer  staid  at  the  Half-way  House,  in  Lynn. 

"  The  messenger,  on  obtaining  this  disclosure  from  Palmer, 
without  delay  communicated  it  by  mail  to  the  committee,  arid 
on  the  26th  of  May,  a  warrant  was  issued  against  Joseph  J. 
Knapp,  Jr.,  and  John  Francis  Knapp,  and  they  were  taken  into 
custody  at  Wenham,  where  they  were  residing  hi  the  family 
of  Mrs.  Beckford,  mother  of  the  wife  of  Joseph  J.  Knapp,  Jr. 
They  were  then  imprisoned  to  await  the  arrival  of  Palmer,  foi 
their  examination. 

"  The  two  Knapps  were  young  shipmasters,  of  a  respectable 
family. 

"Joseph  J.  Knapp,  Jr.,  on  the  third  day  of  his  imprison 
ment,  made  a  full  confession  that  he  projected  the  murder. 
He  knp  w  that  Mr.  White  had  made  his  will,  had  given  to  Mrs. 
Beckford  a  legacy  of  fifteen  thousand  dollars ;  but  if  he  died 
without  leaving  a  will,  he  expected  she  would  inherit  nearly 


TRIAL  OF  KNAPP  CONTINUED.  xJ09 

two  hundred  thousand  dollars.  In  February  he  made  known 
to  his  brother  his  desire  to  make  way  with  Mr.  White,  intend- 
ing first  to  abstract  and  destroy  the  will.  Frank  agreed  to 
employ  an  assassin,  and  negotiated  with  R.  Crowninshield,  Jr., 
who  agreed  to  do  the  deed  for  a  reward  of  one  thousand  dol- 
lars ;  Joseph  agreed  to  pay  that  sum,  and  as  he  had  access  to 
the  house  at  his  pleasure,  he  was  to  unbar  and  unfasten  the 
back  window,  so  that  Crowninshield  might  gain  easy  entrance. 
Four  days  before  the  murder,  while  they  were  deliberating  on 
the  mode  of  compassing  it,  he  went  into  Mr.  White's  chamber, 
and,  finding  the  key  in  the  iron  chest,  unlocked  it,  took  the 
will,  put  it  in  his  chaise-box,  covered  it  with  hay,  carried  it  to 
Wenham,  kept  it  till  after  the  murder,  and  then  burned  it. 
After  securing  the  will,  he  gave  notice  to  Crowninshield  that  all 
was  ready.  In  the  evening  of  that  day  he  had  a  meeting  with 
Crowninshield  at  the  centre  of  the  common,  who  showed  him 
a  bludgeon  and  a  dagger,  with  which  the  murder  was  to  be 
committed.  Knapp  asked  him  if  he  meant  to  do  it  that  night; 
Crowninshield  said  he  thought  not,  he  did  not  feel  like  it ; 
Knapp  then  went  to  Wenham.  Knapp  ascertained  on  Sunday, 
the  4th  of  April,  that  Mr.  White  had  gone  to  take  tea  with  a 
relative  in  Chestnut-street.  Crowninshield  intended  to  dirk 
him  on  his  way  home  in  the  evening,  but  Mr.  White  returned 
before  dark.  It  was  next  arranged  for  the  night  of  the  6th,  and 
Knapp  was  on  some  pretext  to  prevail  on  Mrs.  Beckford  to 
visit  her  daughters  at  Wenham,  and  to  spend  the  night  there 
lie  said  that,  all  preparations  being  thus  complete,  Crownin 
shield  and  Frank  met  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening-  of  the 
6th,  in  Brown-street,  which  passes  the  rear  of  the  garden  of 
Mr.  White,  and  stood  some  time  in  a  spot  from  which  they 
could  observe  the  movements  in  the  house,  and  perceive  when 
Mr.  White  and  his  two  servants  retired  to  bed.  Crowninshield 
requested  Frank  to  go  home ;  he  did  so,  but  soon  returned  to 
the  same  spot.  Crowninshield,  in  the  mean  time,  had  started 


210  WEBSTEK    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

and  passed  round  through  Newbury-street  and  Essox-street  tc 
the  front  of  the  house,  entered  the  postern  gate,  passed  to  the 
rear  of  the  house,  placed  a  plank  against  the  house,  dimbed  to 
the  window,  opened  it,  entered  the  house  alone,  passed  up  the 
staircase,  opened  the  door  of  the  sleeping-chamber,  approached 
the  bedside,  gave  Mr.  White  a  heavy  and  mortal  blow  on  the 
head  with  a  bludgeon,  and  then  with  a  dirk  gave  him  many 
stabs  in  his  body.  Crowninshield  said,  that  after  he  had  'done 
for  the  old  man,'  he  put  his  fingers  on  his  pulse  to  make  cer- 
tain he  was  dead.  He  then  retired  from  the  house,  hurried 
back  through  Brown-street,  where  he  met  Frank,  waiting  to 
learn  the  event.  Crowninshield  ran  down  Howard-street,  a 
solitary  place,  and  hid  the  club  under  the  steps  of  a  meeting- 
house. He  then  went  home  to  Danvers. 

"  Joseph  confessed  further  that  the  account  of  the  Wenham 
robbery,  on  the  27th  of  April,  was  a  sheer  fabrication.  After 
the  murder,  Crowninshield  went  to  Wenham  in  company  with 
Frank  to  call  for  the  one  thousand  dollars.  He  was  not  able 
to  pay  the  whole,  but  gave  him  one  hundred  five-franc  pieces. 
Crowninshield  related  to  him  the  particulars  of  the  murder,  told 
him  where  the  club  was  hid,  and  said  he  was  sorry  Joseph  had 
not  got  the  right  will,  for  if  he  had  known  there  was  another, 
he  would  have  got  it.  Joseph  sent  Frank  afterwards  to  find 
and  destroy  the  club,  but  he  said  he  could  not  find  it.  When 
Joseph  made  the  confession,  he  told  the  place  where  the  club 
was  concealed,  and  it  was  there  found  ;  it  was  heavy,  made  of 
hickory,  twenty-two  and  a  half  inches  long,  of  a  smooth  surface 
and  large  oval  head,  loaded  with  lead,  and  of  a  form  adapted  to 
give  a  mortal  blow  on  the  skull  without  breaking  the  skin  ;  the 
handle  was  suited  for  a  firm  grasp.  Crowninshield  said  he 
turned  it  in  a  lathe.  Joseph  admitted  he  wrote  the  two  anon- 
ymous letters. 

"  Crowninshield  had  hitherto  maintained  a  stoical  composure 
of  feeling  ;  but  when  he  was  informed  of  Knapp's  arrest,  his 


TRIAL  OF  KNAPP  CONTINUED.  211 

knees  smote  beneath  him,  the  sweat  started  out  on  his  stem 
and  pallid  face,  and  he  subsided  upon  his  bunk. 

"  Palmer  was  brought  to  Salem  in  irons  on  the  3d  of  June, 
and  committed  to  prison.  Crowninshield  saw  him  taken  from 
the  carriage.  He  was  put  in  the  cell  directly  under  that  in 
which  Crowninshield  was  kept.  Several  members  of  the  com- 
mittee entered  Palmer's  cell  to  talk  with  him  ;  while  they  were 
talking,  they  heard  a  loud  whistle,  and,  on  looking  up,  saw  that 
Crowninshield  had  picked  away  the  mortar  from  the  crevice  be- 
tween the  blocks  of  the  granite  floor  of  his  cell.  After  the 
loud  whistle,  he  cried  out,  'Palmer!  Palmer!'  and  soon  let 
down  a  string,  to  which  were  tied  a  pencil  and  a  slip  of  paper. 
Two  lines  of  poetry  were  written  on  the  paper,  in  order  that, 
if  Palmer  was  really  there,  he  would  make  it  known  by  cap- 
ping the  verses.  Palmer  shrunk  away  into  a  corner,  and  was 
soon  transferred  to  another  cell.  He  seemed  to  stand  in  awe 
of  Crowninshield. 

"  On  the  12th  of  June,  a  quantity  of  stolen  goods  was  found 
concealed  in  the  barn  of  Crowninshield,  in  consequence  of  in- 
formation from  Palmer. 

"Crowninshield,  thus  finding  the  proofs  of  his  guilt  and  de- 
pravity thicken,  on  th3  15th  of  June  committed  suicide  by 
hanging  himself  to  the  bars  of  his  cell  with  a  handkerchief. 
He  left  letters  to  his  father  and  brother,  expressing  in  general 
terms  the  viciousness  of  his  life,  and  the  hopelessness  of  escape 
from  punishment.  When  his  associates  in  guilt  heard  his  fate, 
they  said  it  was  not  unexpected  by  them,  for  they  had  often 
heard  him  say  he  would  never  live  to  submit  to  an  ignomini- 
ous punishment. 

"  A  special  term  of  the  supreme  court  was  held  at  Salem  on 
the  20th  of  July,  for  the  trial  of  the  prisoners  charged  with  the 
murder;  it  continued  in  session  till  the  20th  of  August,  with  a 
few  days'  intermission.  An  indictment  for  the  murder  was 
found  against  John  Francis  Knapp,  as  principal,  and  Joseph  J 
VO-JL  i.  14 


212  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

Knapp,  Jr.,  and  George  Crowninshield,  as  accessories.  Selman 
and  Chase  were  discharged  by  the  attorney-general. 

"  The  principal,  John  Francis  Knapp,  was  first  put  on  trial. 
As  the  law  then  stood,  an  accessory  in  a  murder  could  not  be 
tried  until  a  principal  had  been  convicted.  He  was  defended 
by  Messrs.  Franklin  Dexter  and  William  II.  Gardiner,  advo- 
cates of  high  reputation  for  ability  and  eloquence  ;  the  trial  was 
long  and  arduous,  and  the  witnesses  numerous.  His  brother 
Joseph,  who  had  made  a  full  confession,  on  the  government's 
promise  of  impunity  if  he  would  in  good  faith  testify  the  truth, 
was  brought  into  court,  called  to  the  stand  as  a  witness,  but  de- 
clined to  testify.  To  convict  the  prisoner,  it  was  necessary  for 
the  government  to  prove  that  he  was  present,  actually  or  con- 
structively, as  an  aider  or  abettor  in  the  murder.  The  evi- 
dence was  strong  that  there  was  a  conspiracy  to  commit  the 
murder,  that  the  prisoner  was  one  of  the  conspirators,  that  at 
the  time  of  the  murder  he  was  in  Brown-street  at  the  rear  of 
Mr.  White's  garden,  and  the  jury  were  satisfied  that  he  was  in 
that  place  to  aid  and  abet  in  the  murder,  ready  to  afford  as- 
sistance, if  necessary.  He  was  convicted. 

"  Joseph  J.  Knapp,  Jr.,  was  afterwards  tried  as  an  accessory 
before  the  fact,  and  convicted. 

"  George  Crowninshield  proved  an  alibi,  and  was  discharged. 

"The  execution  of  John  Francis  Knapp  and  Joseph  J. 
Knapp,  Jr.,  closed  the  tragedy. 

"  If  Joseph,  after  turning  state's  evidence,  had  not  changed 
his  mind,  neither  he  nor  his  brother,  nor  any  of  the  conspirators, 
could  have  been  convicted  ;  if  he  had  testified,  and  disclosed 
the  whole  truth,  it  would  have  appeared  that  John  Francis 
Knapp  was  in  Brown-street,  not  to  render  assistance  to  the  as- 
sassin ;  but  that  Crowninshield,  when  he  started  to  commit  the 
murder,  requested  Frank  to  go  home  and  go  to  bed ;  that 
Frank  did  go  home,  retire  to  bed,  soon  after  arose,  secretly  left 
his  father's  house,  and  hastened  to  Brown-street,  tc  await  the 


TRIAL  OF  KNAPP  CONTINUED.  '213 

coming  out  of  the  assassin,  in  order  to  learn  whether  the  deed 
was  accomplished,  and  all  the  particulars.  If  Frank  had  not 
been  convicted  as  principal,  none  of  the  accessories  could  by 
law  have  been  convicted.  Joseph  would  not  have  been  even 
tried,  for  the  government  stipulated  that,  if  he  would  be  a  wit- 
ness for  the  state,  he  should  go  clear. 

"  The  whole  history  of  this  occurrence  is  of  romantic  inter- 
est. The  murder  itself,  the  corpus  delicti,  was  strange;  plan- 
ned with  deliberation  and  sagacity,  and  executed  with  firmness 
and  vigor.  While  conjecture  was  baffled  in  ascertaining  either 
the  motive  or  the  perpetrator,  it  was  certain  that  the  assassin 
had  acted  upon  design,  and  not  at  random.  He  must  nave 
had  knowledge  of  the  house,  for  the  window  had  been  un 
fastened  from  within.  He  had  entered  stealthily,  threaded  his 
way  in  silence  through  the  apartments,  corridors,  and  stair- 
cases, and  coolly  given  the  mortal  blow.  To  make  assurance 
doubly  sure,  he  inflicted  many  fatal  stabs,  'the  least  a  death  to 
nature,'  and  staid  not  his  hand  till  he  had  deliberately  felt  the 
pulse  of  his  victim,  to  make  certain  that  life  was  extinct. 

"  It  was  strange  that  Crowninshield,  the  real  assassin,  should 
have  been  indicted  and  arrested  on  the  testimony  of  Hatch, 
who  was  himself  in  prison,  in  a  distant  part  of  the  state,  at  the 
time  of  the  murder,  and  had  no  actual  knowledge  on  the 
subject. 

"  It  was  very  strange  that  J.  J.  Knapp,  Jr.,  should  have 
been  the  instrument  of  bringing  to  light  the  mystery  of  the 
whole  murderous  conspiracy  ;  for  when  he  received  from  the 
hand  of  his  father  the  threatening  letter  of  Palmer,  conscious- 
ness of  guilt  so  confounded  his  faculties,  that,  instead  of  destroy- 
ing it,  he  stupidly  handed  it  back,  and  requested  his  father  to 
deliver  it  to  the  committee  of  vigilance. 

"It  was  strange  that  the  murder  should  have  been  commit- 
ted on  a  mistake  in  law.  Joseph,  some  time  previous  to  the 
murder,  had  made  inquiry  how  Mr.  White's  estate  would  be 


214  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

distributed  in  case  he  died  without  a  will,  and  had  been  erro 
oeously  told  that  Mrs.  Beckford,  his  mother-in-law,  the  sole 
issue  and  representative  of  a  deceased  sister  of  Mr.  White, 
\\ould  inherit  half  of  the  estate,  and  that  the  four  children  and 
representatives  of  a  deceased  brother  of  Mr.  White,  of  whom 
the  Hon.  Stephen  White  was  one,  would  inherit  the  other  half. 
Joseph  had  privately  read  the  will,  and  knew  that  Mr.  White 
had  bequeathed  to  Mrs.  Beckford  much  less  than  half. 

"  It  was  strange  that  the  murder  should  have  been  commit- 
ted on  a  mistake  in  fact  also.  Joseph  furtively  abstracted  a 
will,  and  expected  Mr.  White  would  die  intestate;  but  after 
the  decease,  the  will,  the  last  will,  was  found  by  his  heirs  in  its 
proper  place;  and  it  could  never  have  been  known  or  conjec- 
tured, without  the  aid  of  Joseph's  confession,  that  he  had  made 
either  of  those  blunders. 

"  Finally,  it  was  a  strange  fact  that  Knapp  should,  on  the 
night  following  the  murder,  have  watched  with  the  mangled 
corpse,  and  at  the  funeral  followed  the  hearse  as  one  of  the 
chief  mourners,  without  betraying  on  either  occasion  the  slight- 
est emotion  which  could  awaken  a  suspicion  of  his  guilt." 

It  so  happened  that  the  Hon.  Rufus  Choate,  the  first  of  New 
England  lawyers  since  the  decease  of  Webster,  listened  to 
all  the  proceedings  of  this  trial,  and  heard  the  speech  of  the 
great  advocate ;  and  his  opinion  of  Mr.  Webster's  skill  and 
tact,  in  the  management  of  the  trial,  and  of  the  overwhelming 
power  and  eloquence  of  his  argument,  he  has  given  in  a  para- 
graph or  sentence,  which,  after  it  has  served  its  first  and  legiti- 
mate pui-pose,  may  be  studied  as  a  striking  exemplification  of 
the  working  of  a  vigorous  and  rapid  mind  struggling  to  give 
language  to  a  conception  almost  too  large  and  difficult  for  ut- 
terance. Speaking  of  the  many  great  causes  tried  by  Mr. 
Webster,  in  all  of  which  a  most  remarkable  combination  of 
talents  was  conspicuous,  the  learned  and  able  gentleman  pro- 
ceeds to  draw  a  picture  of  the  case  under  examination  :  "  One 


TRIAL  OF  KNAPP  CONTINUED.  215 

such,"  says  he,  "I  stood  in  a  relation  to  witness  with  a  compar- 
atively easy  curiosity,  and  yet  with  intimate  and  professional 
knowledge  of  all  the  embarrassments  of  the  case.  It  was  the 
trial  of  John  Francis  Knapp,  charged  with  being  present,  aid- 
ing and  abetting  in  the  murder  of  Joseph  White,  in  which  Mr. 
Webster  conducted  the  prosecution  for  the  commonwealth ;  in 
the  same  year  with  his  reply  to  Mr.  Hayne,  in  the  senate ;  and 
a  few  months  later ;  and  when  1  bring  to  mind  the  incidents 
of  that  trial :  the  necessity  of  proving  that  the  prisoner  was 
near  enough  to  the  chamber  in  which  the  murder  was  being 
committed  by  another  hand  to  aid  in  the  act ;  and  was  there 
with  the  intention  to  do  so,  and  thus  in  point  of  law  did  aid  in 
it  —  because  mere  accessorial  guilt  was  not  enough  to  convict 
him  ;  the  difficulty  of  proving  this — because  the  nearest  point 
to  which  the  evidence  could  trace  him  was  still  so  distant  us  to 
warrant  a  pretty  formidable  doubt  whether  mere  curisoity 
had  not  carried  him  thither ;  and  whether  he  could  in  any 
useful  or  even  conceivable  manner  have  cooperated  with  the 
actual  murderer,  if  he  had  intended  to  do  so ;  and  because  the 
only  mode  of  rendering  it  probable  that  he  was  there  with  a 
purpose  of  guilt  was  by  showing  that  he  was  one  of  the  parties 
to  a  conspiracy  of  murder,  whose  very  existence,  actors  and  ob- 
jects had  to  be  made  out  by  the  collation  of  the  widest  possi- 
ble range  of  circumstances — some  of  them  pretty  loose — and 
even  if  he  was  a  conspirator,  it  did  not  quite  necessarily  follow, 
that  any  active  participation  was  assigned  to  him  for  his  part, 
any  more  than  to  his  brother,  who,  confessedly,  took  no  such 
part — the  great  number  of  witnesses  to  be  examined  and  cross- 
examined,  a  duty  devolving  wholly  on  him ;  the  quick  and 
sound  judgment  demanded  and  supplied  to  determine  what  to 
use  and  what  to  reject  of  a  mass  of  rather  unmanageable  mate- 
rials ;  the  points  in  the  law  of  evidence  to  be  argued  —  iu  the 
coui'se  of  which  he  made  an  appeal  to  the  bench  on  the  com- 
plete impunity  wb  eh  the  rejection  of  the  prisoner's  confession 


216  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    M ASTEK-riECES. 

would  give  to  the  murder,  in  a  style  of  dignity  and  energy,  1 
should  rather  say,  of  grandeur,  which  I  never  heard  him  equal, 
before  or  after  ;  the  high  ability  and  fidelity  with  which  every 
part  of  the  defense  was  conducted ;  and  the  great  final  sum- 
ming up  to  which  he  brought,  and  in  which  he  needed,  the  ut- 
most exertion  of  every  faculty  he  possessed  to  persuade  the 
jury  that  the  obligation  of  that  duty,  the  sense  of  which,  he 
said,  'pursued  us  ever  :  it  is  omnipresent  like  the  Deity  :  if  we 
take  the  wings  of  the  morning  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts 
of  the  sea,  duty  performed,  or  duty  violated,  is  still  with  us  for 
our  happiness  or  misery '  —  to  persuade  them  that  this  obliga- 
tion demanded  that  on  his  proofs  they  should  convict  the  pris- 
oner: to  which  he  brought  first  the  profound  belief  of  his  guilt, 
without  which  he  could  not  have  prosecuted  him  ;    then  skill 
consummate  in  inspiring  them  with  a  desire  or  a  willingness  to 
be  instrumental  in  detecting  that  guilt ;  and  to  lean  on  him  in 
the  effort  to  detect  it ;  then  every  resource  of  professional  abil- 
ity to  break  the  force  of  the  propositions  of  the"  defense,  and  to 
establish  the  truth  of  his  own :  inferring  a  conspiracy  to  which 
the  prisoner  was  a  party,  from  circumstances  acutely  ridiculed 
by  the  able  counsel  opposing  him  as  '  Stuff' —  but  woven  by 
him  into  strong  and  uniform  tissue ;  and  then  bridging  over 
from  the  conspiracy  to  the  not  very  necessary  inference  that 
the  particular  conspirator  on  trial  was  at  his  post,  in  execution 
of  it,  to   aid   and    abet  —  the   picture   of  the  murder  with 
which  he  had  begun — not  for  rhetorical  display,  but  to  inspire 
solemnity,  and  horror,  and  a  desire  to  detect  and  punish  for 
justice  and  for  security  ;  the  sublime  exhortation  to  duty  with 
which  he  closed — resting  on  the  universality,  and  authoritative- 
ness  and  eternity  of  its  obligation — which  left  in  every  juror's 
mind  the  impression  that  it  was  the  duty  of  convicting  in  this 
particular  case,  the  sense  of  which  would  be  with  him  in   the 
hour  of  death,  and  in  the  judgment,  and  forever  —  with  these 
recollections  of  that  trial  I  cannot  help  thinking  it  a  more  diffi- 


HIS  PRE-EMINENCE  ACKNOWLEDGED.  21? 

cult,  and  higher  effort  of  mind  than  that  more  famous  '  Oration 
for  the  Crown.'" 

Eminent  as  these  cases  were,  and  eminent  as  were  the  ex- 
hibitions of  legal  talent  which  they  called  forth,  they  are  by  no 
means  the  only  cases,  or  the  only  exhibitions  of  the  kind,  to  be 
referred  to  in  proof  of  the  unexampled  forensic  ability  of  Mr. 
Webster.  They  are  only  specimens.  They  are  the  specimens 
pertaining  to  this  period  of  his  history.  His  entire-  professional 
life,  however,  was  full  of  such  exhibitions.  The  amount  of  la- 
bor performed  by  him  as  a  lawyer,  in  all  the  departments  of 
the  profession,  from  the  ordinary  to  the  highest  and  most  august 
tribunal  of  the  country,  can  scarcely  be  appreciated  except  by 
lawyers,  or  by  a  person  whose  life  has  been  particularly  con- 
versant with  the  profession.  "  While  Air.  Webster,  as  a  poli- 
tician and  a  statesman,"  says  Mr.  Everett,  "has  performed  an 
amount  of  intellectual  labor,  sufficient  to  form  the  sole  occupa- 
tion of  an  active  life,  there  is  no  doubt  that  his  arguments  to 
the  court,  and  his  addresses  to  the  jury,  in  important  suits  at 
law,  would,  if  they  had  been  reported  like  his  political 
speeches,  have  filled  a  much  greater  space ;"  and  the  able  but 
brief  biographer  of  his  friend  might  as  justly  have  added,  that 
the  labor  bestowed  in  the  examination  and  general  treatment 
of  his  cases  cost  him  more  real  toil,  and  required  a  more  thor- 
ough employment  of  his  transcendent  talents,  than  the  prepara- 
tion of  all  his  arguments,  addresses  and  speeches,  legal  and  po- 
litical. The  professional  work  actually  performed  by  his  mind, 
during  the  forty-five  years  of  his  public  life,  if  given  at  the  same 
length  as  his  published  efforts,  could  scarcely  have  been  printed  in 
less  than  several  scores  of  volumes.  And  then,  when  it  is  con 
sidered  how  that  work  was  performed,  how  every  part  of  it 
was  executed,  what  perfection  and  power  were  stamped  upon 
all  of  it,  the  mind  almost  staggers  at  the  contemplation.  Or 
if  the  mind  of  any  will  go  on  with  the  contemplation  of  this 
almost  inconceivable  succession  of  intellectual  labors  of  the  high- 


2  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-!  1ECES. 

est  order,  and  of  the  grandeur  and  glory  of  re-mlt  to  which 
it  all  tended,  and  unto  which  it  finally  attained,  it  can  hardly 
rlc  so  in  better  terms,  or  under  a  better  guide,  than  are  fur- 
nished in  the  language  of  one  whom  it  is  scarcely  possible  not 
to  quote  upon  this  subject:  "There  presents  itself,"  says  Mr. 
Choate,  "on  the  first,  and  to  any  observation  of  Mr.  Webster's 
life  and  character,  a  two-fold  eminence ;  eminence  of  the  very 
highest  rank  in  a  two-fold  field  of  intellectual  and  public  dis- 
play,  the  profession  of  the  law,  and  the  profession  of  state -man- 
ship,  of  which  it  would  not  be  easy  to  recall  any  parallel  in 
the  biography  of  illustrious  men. 

"  Without  seeking  for  parallels,  and  without  asserting  that 
they  do  not  exist,  consider  that  he  was  by  universal  designation 
the  leader  of  the  general  American  bar ;  and  that  he  was  also 
by  an  equally  universal  designation  foremost  of  her  statesmen 
living  at  his  death ;  inferior  to  not  one  who  has  lived  and  acted 
since  the  opening  of  his  own  public  life.  Look  at  these  aspects 
of  his  greatness  separately — and  from  opposite  sides  of  the  sur- 
passing elevation.  Consider  that  his  single  career  at  the  bar 
may  seem  to  have  been  enough  to  employ  the  largest  faculties 
without  repose,  for  a  life  time  ;  and  that  if  then  and  thus  the 
'  inftnitus  forensium  rerum  labor,1  should  have  conducted 
him  to  a  mere  professional  reward  —  a  bench  of  chancery  or 
law — the  crown  of  the  first  of  advocates — jitrisperitorum  elo- 
quentissimus — to  the  pure  and  mere  honors  of  a  great  magis- 
trate ;  that  that  would  be  as  much  as  is  allotted  to  the  ablest 
in  the  distribution  of  fame.  Even  that  half — if  I  may  say  so 
— of  his  illustrious  reputation — how  long  the  labor  to  win  it — 
how  worthy  of  all  that  labor  !  He  was  bred  first  in  the  se- 
verest school  of  the  common  law,  in  which  its  doctrines  wero 
expounded  by  Smith,  and  its  administration  shaped  and  di- 
rected by  Mason, — and  its  foundation  principles,  its  historical 
sources  and  illustrations,  its  connection  with  the  parallel  series 
of  statutory  enactments,  its  modes  of  reasoning,  aid  the  efi- 


PRE-EMINENCE  UNIVERSALLY  ACKNOWLEDGED.  210 

dence  of  its  truths,  he  grasped  easily  and  completely ;  and  1 
have  mj  self  heard  him  say,  that  for  many  years,  while  still  at 
that  bar,  he  tried  more  causes  and  argued  more  questions  of 
fact  to  the  jury,  than  perhaps  any  other  member  of  the  pro 
fession  anywhere.  I  have  heard  from  others  how  even  then  he 
exemplified  the  same  direct,  clear,  and  forcible  exhibition  of 
proofs,  and  the  reasonings  appropriate  to  proofs — as  well  as 
the  same  marvelous  power  of  discerning  instantly  what  we 
call  the  decisive  points  of  the  cause  in  law  and  fact — by  which 
he  was  later  more  widely  celebrated.  This  was  the  first  epoch 
in  his  professional  training. 

"  With  the  commencement  of  his  public  life,  or  with  his  later 
removal  to  this  state,  began  the  second  epoch  of  his  professional 
training — conducting  him  through  the  gradation  of  the  national 
tribunals  to  the  study  and  practice  of  the  more  flexible,  elegant 
and  scientific  jurisprudence  of  commerce  and  of  chancery — and 
to  the  grander  and  less  fettered  investigations  of  international, 
prize,  and  constitutional  law — and  giving  him  to  breathe  the 
air  of  a  more  famous  forum  ;  in  a  more  public  presence ;  with 
more  variety  of  competition,  although  he  never  met  abler  men, 
as  I  have  many  times  heard  him  say,  than  some  of  those  who 
initiated  him  in  the  rugged  discipline  of  the  courts  of  New 
Hampshire ;  and  thus,  at  length,  by  these  studies ;  these  la- 
bors ;  this  contention  ;  continued  without  repose,  he  came,  now 
many  years  ago,  to  stand,  omnium  assensu,  at  the  summit  of 
the  American  bar." 

Such  is  not  the  judgment  of  one  man  only.  It  is  the  gen- 
eral judgment  of  the  profession  throughout  the  country.  It  i? 
a  judgment  to  which  free  expression  has  been  given  by  such 
gentlemen  as  Justice  Sprague,  of  Massachusetts,  Lewis  Cass, 
of  Michigan,  Senator  Butter,  of  South  Carolina,  Justice  Wayne, 
of  Georgia,  and  by  every  other  distinguished  lawyer,  probably, 
in  every  portion  of  the  Union.  Not  one  dissent  has  ever 
found  its  way  to  the  public  eye.  It  must,  therefore,  go  down 

VOL,  I.  J 


220  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

to  future  ages,  as  the  common  opinion  of  the  legal  profession 
of  this  age,  that,  of  all  the  distinguished  civilians,  jurists,  advocates 
lawyers,  of  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century,  there  was 
not  one  found  equal  to  Daniel  Webster.  "  I  shall  submit  it,'' 
says  his  friend  and  associate,  Mr.  Choate, — "  I  shall  submit  it  to 
the  judgment  of  the  universal  American  bar,  if  a  carefully  pre 
pared  opinion  of  Mr.  Webster,  on  any  question  of  law  whatever, 
in  the  whole  range  of  our  jurisprudence,  would  not  be  accepted 
everywhere  as  of  the  most  commanding  authority,  and  as  the 
highest  evidence  of  legal  truth  ?  I  submit  it  to  that  same  judg- 
ment, if,  for  many  years  before  his  death,  they  would  not  have 
"ather  chosen  to  intrust  the  maintenance  and  enforcement  of 
any  important  proposition  of  law  whatever,  before  any  legal 
tribunal  whatever,  to  his  best  exertion  of  his  faculties,  than  to 
any  other  ability,  which  the  whole  wealth  of  the  profession 
could  supply  ? "  What  a  question  is  this,  to  be  submitted 
with  such  confidence  to  such  a  tribunal,  by  a  man,  who,  with 
the  most  apparent  modesty,  might  well  cherish  the  ambition 
of  one  day  arriving  at  something  like  the  same  distinction ! 
This,  certainly,  is  reaching  the  last  beatitude  of  the  Koman 
classic — laudatus  laudatis  ;  and  it  should  be  remembered,  that 
no  case  is  referred  to,  by  any  of  the  distinguished  gentlemen 
whose  opinion  has  been  quoted,  as  a  foundation  for  that  opin- 
ion, which  came  under  the  professional  management  of  Mr. 
Webster  after  the  age  of  forty  !  If  Alexander  is  to  be  forever 
celebrated  as  great,  because,  while  yet  a  young  man,  he  sub- 
dued the  brute  force  of  a  barbarous  age,  how  much  greater 
should  his  fame  be,  who,  almost  as  early  in  life,  made  a  more 
perfect  conquest  of  the  free  mind  of  the  m  >st  enlightened  age 
of  which  there  is  any  account  in  history  ! 


CHAPTER  VHL 

REPRESENTATIVE  AND  SENATOR  FROM  MASSACHUSETTS. 

IN  the  month  of  December,  1823,  at  the  age  of  forty -one, 
Mr.  Webster  again  took  his  seat  in  the  house  of  representa- 
tives at  Washington,  as  a  representative  for  Boston.  He  had 
been  elected,  during  the  autumn  of  the  previous  year,  by  a 
very  large  majority,  in  preference  to  the  claims  of  many  very 
eminent  native  citizens  of  the  district,  though  he  had  been  him- 
self a  citizen  of  the  state  for  only  about  six  years.  His  tal- 
ents, his  general  fame,  gave  him  this  precedence  over  all 
competition. 

The  year  of  his  second  appearance  in  the  halls  of  congress 
was  the  last  year  of  the  peaceful  administration  of  Monroe. 
For  seven  years,  there  had  been  but  few  questions  creating  any 
differences  of  opinion  among  the  leading  statesmen  of  the  coun- 
try. The  second  war  with  England  had  embarrassed  the  cur- 
rency, involved  the  country  in  a  heavy  public  debt,  and  so 
wounded  the  commerce  and  business  of  the  nation,  that  it  had 
seemed  to  be  the  duty,  and  it  certainly  had  been  the  chief  em- 
ployment, of  the  first  public  men  to  soothe,  and  heal,  and  har- 
monize the  general  feeling,  and  retrieve  the  results  of  former 
errors.  While  engaged  in  these  tranquil  labors,  the  attention 
of  the  country  had  been  called  to  the  heroic  struggles  of  the 
modern  Greeks,  who,  on  a  soil  made  classic  by  the  genius  of 
their  ancestors,  had  been  contending  for  their  faith  and  their 
freedom  against  the  tyranny  and  intolerance  of  the  Turks. 
The  whole  civilized  world  had  felt  a  strong  sympathy  in  those 


ASD    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

struggles.  England  had  sent  bar  agents  to  watch  the  progress 
of  the  brave  effort.  France,  Germany  and  Poland  had  kin- 
dled to  enthusiasm  in  the  cause  of  the  young  republic  ;  and, 
encouraged  bj  these  signs  of  sympathy,  the  "  Messenian  Sen- 
ate of  fMamata,"  the  political  organization  which  represented 
die  reyohrtion,  had  sent  appeals  to  several  of  the  governments 
of  Europe,  and  another  of  a  peculiarly  touching  character  to 
:.'-.  -  :••  intry.  BuvV  mpf  '•'-•  ''  IH  IPjd  power  ::'  this  ••rv-.->J, 
that  ]Jlr.  Monroe,  in  spite  of  his  doctrine  of  non-interference, 
which  he  act  up  for  his  own  country  against  all  other  countries, 
found  it  impossible  to  satisfy  the  expectations  of  the  people,  or 
the  demands  of  his  own  conscience,  without  mentioning  the 
cause  of  the  Greeks  in  his  last  annual  message.  u  A  strong 
hope,"  says  the  peace-president,  "has  been  long  entertained, 
founded  on  die  heroic  straggle  of  the  Greeks,  that  they  would 
succeed  in  their  contest,  and  resume  their  equal  station  among 
the  nations  of  die  earth.  It  is  believed  that  the  whole  civilized 
world  takes  a  deep  interest  in  their  welfare.  Although  no 
power  has  declared  in  their  favor,  yet  none,  according  to  our 
::;:'  -.v..--.::  ::.  has  taken  part  igainst  them.  T:>.-:r  causi  .•.:'.<! 
tfaeir  name  bare  protected  them  from  dangers  which  might  ere 
tins  hare  overwhelmed  any  other  people.  The  ordinary  calcu- 
lations of  interest,  and  of  acquisition  with  a  view  to  aggrandize- 
ment. which  mingle  so  much  in  the  transactions  of  nations, 
seem,  to  hare  had  no  effect  in  regard  to  them.  From  the  facts 
which  hare  come  to  our  knowledge,  there  is  good  ground  to 
befiere,  that  their  enemy  has  forever  lost  all  dominion  over 
diem,  that  Greece  will  become  again  an  independent  nation." 
With  a  view  to  iitmifTig  a  suitable  response  to  this  portion  of 


opportunity  of  expressing  an  opinion  concerning 
d»  Greek  revolatioc,  Mr.  Webster  read  to  the  house,  on  the 
8di  of  December,  dw  following  resolution:  -Resolved.  That 
f^maoH  ought  to  he*  made,  by  law.  tor  firtraym?  th«  expense 


•SPEAKS    FOR    THE    GREEK    REVOLCTIOX.  223 

of  an  agent  or  commissiorter  to  Greece,  whenever  the  president 
shall  deem  it  expedient  to  make  such  appointment."  The  res- 
olution took  the  usual  course  of  such  resolutions;  and,  on  the 
19th  of  January,  1824,  the  house  having  resolved  itself  into  a 
committee  of  the  whole,  the  resolution  was  taken  up,  and  Mr. 
Webster  defended  and  enforced  it  by  a  speech,  which,  regarded 
at  the  time  as  the  greatest  of  his  public  efforts,  has  since  been 
looked  to  as  proof  of  some  inconsistency  of  action.  The  al- 
leged inconsistency,  chiefly  urged  during  the  visit  of  Louis  Kos- 
suth  to  this  country,  and  urged  by  those  who  could  scarcely 
have  read  the  speech  in  question,  refers  to  the  non-interfering 
policy,  which,  since  the  days  of  Washington,  has  been  the  estab- 
lished policy  of  this  country.  It  is  said,  that,  in  his  Greek 
speech,  Mr.  Webster  advocated  the  doctrine  of  interference ; 
but  that  when  the  Hungarians  applied  to  our  government  for 
aid,  after  they  had  been  betrayed  and  beaten  by  a  combination 
of  the  Austrians  and  Russians,  he  suddenly  took  up  and  de- 
fended the  policy  of  Washington.  A  very  brief  quotation, 
from  the  opening  of  the  address,  will  be  enough  to  repel  this 
insinuation.  u  I  might  well.  Mr.  Chairman."  says  the  speaker, 
"  avoid  the  responsibility  of  this  measure,  if  it  had,  in  cay  judg- 
ment, any  tendency  to  change  the  policy  of  the  country.  With 
the  general  course  of  that  policy  I  am  quite  satisfied.  The  nation 
is  prosperous,  peaceful  and  happy  ;  and  I  should  very  reluctantly 
put  its  peace,  prosperity  and  happiness  at  risk.  It  seems  to 
me,  however,  that  this  resolution  is  strictly  conformable  to  our 
general  policy,  and  not  only  consistent  with  our  interests,  but 
even  demanded  by  a  large  and  liberal  view  of  those  interests. 
It  is  certainly  true,  that  the  just  policy  of  this  country  is.  in  the 
first  place,  a  peaceful  policy.  No  nation  ever  had  less  to  ex- 
pect from  forcible  aggrandizement  The  mighty  agents  which 
are  working  out  our  greatness  are  time,  industry,  and  the  arts. 
Our  augmentation  is  by  growth,  not  by  acquisition,  by  internal 
development,  not  by  external  accession.  No  schemes  can  be 


224  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

suggested  to  us  so  magnificent  as  thft  prospects  whicn  a  sober 
contemplation  of  our  own  condition,  unaided  by  projects,  unin- 
fluenced by  ambition,  fairly  spreads  before  us.  A  country  of 
such  vast  extent,  with  such  varieties  of  soil  and  climate,  with 
so  much  public  spirit  and  private  enterprise,  with  a  population 
increasing  so  much  beyond  former  example,  with  capacities  of 
improvement  not  only  unapplied  or  unexhausted,  but  even,  in 
a  great  measure,  as  yet  unexplored — so  free  in  its  institutions, 
so  mild  in  its  laws,  so  secure  in  the  title  it  confers  on  every 
man  to  his  own  acquisitions — needs  nothing  but  time  and  peace 
to  carry  it  forward  to  almost  any  point  of  advancement." 
These,  as  every  careful  reader  of  the  works  of  Mr.  Webster 
well  knows,  have  always  been  his  sentiments ;  and,  instead  of 
seeking  out  a  false  appearance  of  vacillation,  every  such  reader 
will  rather  wonder  how  a  man  yet  young,  almost  at  the  begin- 
ning of  his  high  career  as  a  statesman,  could  so  unerringly  lay 
down  a  line  of  action,  which  should  serve  him,  almost  without 
exception,  and  with  no  exception  of  great  moment,  to  the  very 
last  day  of  his  long  and  illustrious  life  ! 

There  is  in  this  very  speech,  overlooked  by  friends  and  op- 
ponents alike,  a  beautiful  specimen  of  his  consistency  of  char- 
acter, and  of  the  precocious  wisdom  of  his  early  years.  It  will 
be  remembered,  that,  in  his  speech  before  the  "  United  Frater- 
nity," his  college  society  at  Dartmouth,  he  had  spoken  on  the 
"  Influence  of  Opinion,"  in  which  he  maintained,  that  the  world 
was  no  longer  to  be  governed  by  arms,  but  by  the  common 
sentiments  of  the  great  nations.  Now,  in  his  speech  on  the 
Greek  revolution,  he  reproduces  the  same  thought,  ripened  by 
the  repose  of  more  than  twenty  years,  in  language  which  even 
he  has  seldom  equaled,  and  not  more  than  once  or  twice  sur- 
passed. Repelling  the  sneer,  thrown  out  by  certain  members 
of  the  house,  that,  unless  Mr.  Webster  would  have  the  country 
take  up  arms  for  the  Greeks,  they  knew  not  what  he  would 
have  them  do,  he  breaks  forth  :  "  Sir,  this  reasoning  mistakes 


POWER    OF    PUBLIC    OPINION.  225 

the  age.  The  time  has  been,  indeed,  when  fleets  and  armies, 
and  subsidies,  were  the  principal  reliances  even  in  the  best 
cause.  But,  happily  for  mankind,  a  great  change  has  taken 
place  in  this  respect.  Moral  causes  come  into  consideration, 
in  proportion  as  knowledge  is  advanced  ;  and  the  public  opin- 
ion of  the  civilized  world  is  rapidly  gaining  an  ascendency  over 
mere  brutal  force.  It  is  already  able  to  oppose  the  most  for- 
midable obstruction  to  the  progress  of  injustice  and  oppression; 
and  as  it  grows  more  intelligent,  and  more  intense,  it  will  be 
more  and  more  formidable.  It  may  be  silenced  by  military 
power,  but  it  cannot  be  conquered.  It  is  elastic,  irrepressible, 
and  invulnerable  to  the  weapons  of  ordinary  warfare.  It  i? 
that  impassible,  unextinguishable  enemy  of  mere  violence  and 
arbitrary  rule,  which,  like  Milton's  angels, 

'Vital  in  every  part, 
Cannot,  but  by  annihilating,  die.' 

Until  this  be  propitiated  or  satisfied,  it  is  vain  for  power  to 
talk  of  triumphs  or  repose.  No  matter  what  fields  are  deso- 
lated, what  fortresses  surrendered,  what  armies  subdued,  or  what 
provinces  overrun.  In  the  history  of  the  year  that  has  passed 
by  us,  and  in  the  instance  of  unhappy  Spain,  we  have  seen  the 
vanity  of  all  triumphs  in  a  cause  which  violates  the  general 
sense  of  justice  of  the  civilized  world.  It  is  nothing  that  the 
troops  of  France  have  passed  from  the  Pyrenees  to  Cadiz ;  it 
is  nothing  that  an  unhappy  and  prostrate  nation  has  fallen  be- 
fore them  ;  it  is  nothing  that  arrests,  and  confiscation,  and  ex- 
ecution, sweep  away  the  little  remnant  of  national  resistance. 
There  is  an  enemy  that  still  exists  to  check  the  glory  of  these 
triumphs.  It  follows  the  conqueror  back  to  the  very  scene  of 
his  ovations,  it  calls  upon  him  to  take  notice  that  Europe, 
though  silent,  is  indignant ;  it  shows  him  that  the  scepter  of  his 
victory  is  a  barren  scepter  ;  that  it  shall  confer  neither  joy  nor 
honor,  but  shill  moulder  to  dry  ashes  in  his  grasp.  In  the 


226  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

midst  of  his  exultation,  it  pierces  his  ear  with  the  cry  of  in 
jured  justice ;  it  denounces  against  him  the  indignation  of 
an  enlightened  and  civilized  age ;  it  turns  to  bitterness  the 
cup  of  his  rejoicing,  and  wounds  him  with  the  sting  which 
belongs  to  the  consciousness  of  having  outraged  the  opinion  of 
mankind  !  " 

The  question  which  next  engaged  the  attention  of  Mr.  Webster 
was  the  tariff  bill,  introduced  by  Mr.  Clay,  who,  though  again 
speaker  of  the  house,  had  advocated  the  passage  of  his  bill  with 
his  accustomed  fervor  and  eloquence.  It  was  a  rather  mixed 
bill,  partly  for  protection,  partly  for  revenue  ;  and,  while  it  pro- 
tected some  things  that  needed  no  protection,  and  could  receive 
none,  it  left  unprotected  other  interests,  which,  without  some 
protection,  as  the  policy  of  the  country  now  stood,  would  en- 
tirely and  necessarily  languish.  The  position  of  Mr.  Webster 
was  peculiar,  and  even  painful.  Since  the  country  had  adopted 
the  policy  of  protection,  and  millions  of  capital  had  been  in- 
vested by  the  people  in  view  of  this  policy,  he  sincerely  desired 
to  sustain  some  bill  which  should  justly  carry  out  this  system. 
But  the  bill  before  him  he  could  not  support.  It  was  a  bill,  in 
his  opinion,  which  treated  some  portions  of  the  country,  and 
some  great  interests,  which  he  himself  was  sent  there  to  repre- 
sent, particularly  the  navigation  interest,  quite  unfairly  ;  and, 
therefore,  after  Mr.  Clay  had  made  his  great  speech  in  behalf 
of  what  he  pleased  to  term  the  American  system,  a  speech 
requiring  two  days  for  its  delivery,  Mr.  Webster  followed,  on 
the  first  and  second  days  of  April,  in  a  reply  to  Mr.  Clay, 
which  may  be  regarded  as  his  first  elaborate  effort  on  the 
subject.  That  he  was  not  now  opposed  to  the  principle  of  pro- 
tection, seeing  the  country  had  once  adopted  it,  but  only  op- 
posed to  several  important  particulars  of  the  bill,  is  evident 
from  the  opening  paragraphs  of  his  address  :  "  I  will  avail  my- 
self/' he  says,  "  of  the  present  occasion,  to  make  some  remarks 
on  certain  principles  and  opinions  which  have  been  recently  ad- 


CLAY    AN&    WEBSTER.  227 

vanced,  and  on  those  considerations  which,  in  my  judgment, 
ought  to  govern  us  in  deciding  upon  the  several  and  respective 
parts  of  this  very  important  and  complex  measure.  lean  truly 
say  that  this  is  a  painful  duty.  I  deeply  regret  the  necessity 
which  is  likely  to  be  imposed  upon  me  of  giving  a  general  at 
firmative  or  negative  vote  on  the  whole  of  the  bill.  I  cannot 
but  think  this  mode  of  proceeding  liable  to  great  objections. 
It  exposes  both  those  who  support,  and  those  who  oppose  the 
measure,  to  very  unjust  and  injurious  misapprehensions.  There 
may  be  good  reasons  for  favoring  some  of  the  provisions 
of  the  bill,  and  equally  strong  reasons  for  opposing  others ;  and 
these  provisions  do  not  stand  to  each  other  in  the  relation  of 
principal  and  incident.  If  that  were  the  case,  those  who  are  in 
favor  of  the  principal  might  forego  their  opinions  upon  incidental 
aud  s  ibordinate  provisions.  But  the  bill  proposes  enactments 
entire'y  distinct  and  different  from  one  another,  in  character 
and  tendency.  Some  of  its  clauses  ape  intended  merely  for 
revel'Me  ;  and  of  those  which  regard  the  protection  of  home 
manr^actures,  one  part  stands  upon  very  different  grounds  from 
thosf  of  other  parts.  So  that  probably  every  gentleman  who 
may  jltimately  support  the  bill,  will  vote  for  much  which  his 
jud/iient  does  not  approve ;  and  those  who  oppose  it,  will 
oppo'se  something  which  they  would  very  gladly  support." 

Tbis,  it  will  be  perceived,  was  the  first  occasion  on  which  the 
two  great  champions  of  the  house,  and  afterwards  of  the  senate, 
and  always  of  the  two  wings  of  their  common  party,  directly 
met ;  and,  by  a  comparison  of  the  two  speeches  then  made  by 
them,  which  were  about  equally  elaborated,  and  of  about  ail 
equal  length,  it  would  not  bo  difficult  to  find  fully  exhibited,  in 
deep  contrast,  their  distinctive  traits.  Clay,  who  was  by  no 
meats  s  without  his  facts,  his  logic,  his  deductions,  his  array  of 
argument,  such  as  it  always  was,  was  nevertheless  more  pecu- 
liar, more  striking,  more  effective,  for  his  warm  and  even  glow 
ing  manner  of  elocution,  his  exuberant  fancy,  his  large  sweep 
VOL.  i.  J*  15 


228  WEBSTER    AND    Hlfe    MASTER-PIECES. 

of  voice,  his  forcible  gesticulation,  his  bold  spirit,  and  that  re- 
markable and  winning  confidence,  which  seemed  to  take  the 
most  absolute  success  as  a  thing  already  granted,  even  before 
he  had  done  enough  to  justify  such  hope.  Webster,  on  the 
other  hand,  rose  before  his  hearers,  as  if  he  expected  nothing, 
only  that  they  should  listen  to  him  patiently  and  honestly  till 
he  had  concluded,  relying  solely  upon  the  strength  of  his  posi- 
tion, and  the  force  of  his  arguments,  first  for  the  conviction  of 
their  understandings,  then  for  the  assent  of  their  wills,  and 
last,  for  appropriate  and  timely  action.  It  was  said  of  the  two 
great  rivals  of  debate  in  the  Athenian  general  assembly,  that 
Demosthenes  was  the  greater  orator,  but  that  Phocion  was  the 
more  persuasive  speaker;  and  Demosthenes  himself  once  said, 
when  he  saw  his  opponent  entering  the  assembly,  "  there  comes 
the  pruner  of  my  figures."  There  was  something  of  the  same 
relation  between  the  two  great  rival  sin  the  American  assembly. 
Clay,however, though  quite  as  vehement,  perhaps,  as  Demosthe- 
nes, had  nothing  of  his  perfection  and  elaborate  severity  of 
diction.  Webster,  on  the  other  hand,  had  the  perfection  and 
the  severity  of  style  of  Demosthenes,  but  not  his  warmth  of 
manner.  In  one  respect,  the  analogy  will  hold  good.  Clay 
was  always  making  speeches,  always  speaking  for  immediate 
effect,  always  dealing  in  his  flowers  and  weaving  his  garlands, 
or  his  chaplets ;  and  Webster,  pleased  with  the  fancy,  and 
beautiful  imagery,  and  rapt  and  racy  style  of  his  great  oppo- 
nent, and  as  ready  to  do  him  justice,  in  these  respects,  as  any 
one  in  Congress,  was  always  apt,  notwithstanding,  if  the  occa- 
sion demanded,  to  get  up,  and,  taking  all  the  rhetoric  to  pieces 
pick  out  the  flowers,  strip  all  down  to  the  naked  proposition, 
and  then  annihilate  the  proposition  itself  by  a  few  strokes  of 
his  resistless  logic. 

It  was  so  in  the  debate  now  under  examination.  A  single 
specimen  may  serve  as  a  general  example  of  the  whole  per- 
formance. Mr.  Clay  had  characterized  the  complicated  pro  vis 


SPEECH    ON    THE    TARIFF.  22iJ 

tons  of  his  bill  as  the  "American  system,"  while  he  had  very 
freely  stigmatized  the  opposition  as  advocating  what  he  pleased 
to  call  their  "  foreign  policy."  Mr.  Webster  could  not  let  this 
giving  of  bad  names  pass.  "Allow  me,  sir,"  says  he,  near  the 
opening  of  his  speech,  "  in  the  first  place,  to  state  my  regret, 
if  indeed  I  ought  not  to  state  a  wanner  sentiment,  at  the  names 
or  designations  which  Mr.  Speaker  has  seen  fit  to  adopt  for  the 
purpose  of  describing  the  advocates  and  the  opposers  of  the 
present  bill.  It  is  a  question,  he  says,  between  the  friends  of 
an  '  American  policy,'  and  those  of  a  '  foreign  policy.'  This, 
sir,  is  an  assumption  which  I  take  the  liberty  most  directly  to 
deny.  Mr.  Speaker  certainly  intended  nothing  invidious  or 
derogatory  to  any  part  of  the  house  by  this  mode  of  de- 
nominating friends  and  enemies.  But  there  is  power  in  names; 
and  this  manner  of  distinguishing  those  who  favor,  and  those 
who  oppose  particular  measures,  may  lead  to  inferences  to 
which  no  member  of  the  house  can  submit.  It  may  imply 
that  there  is  more  exclusive  and  peculiar  regard  to  American 
interests  in  one  class  of  opinions  than  in  another.  Such  an 
implication  is  to  be  resisted  arid  repelled.  Every  member  has 
a  right  to  the  presumption,  that  he  pursues  what  he  believes  to 
be  the  interest  of  his  country,  with  as  sincere  a  zeal  as  any 
other  member.  I  claim  this  in  my  own  case ;  and  while  I 
shall  not,  for  any  purpose  of  description  or  convenient  argu- 
ment, use  terms  which  may  imply  any  disrespect  to  other  men's 
opinions,  much  less  any  imputation  upon  other  men's  motives, 
it  is  my  duty  to  take  care  that  the  use  of  such  terms  by  others 
be  not,  against  the  will  of  those  who  adopt  them,  made  to  pro- 
duce a  false  impression.  Indeed,  sir,  it  is  a  little  astonishing, 
if  it  seemed  convenient  to  Mr.  Speaker,  for  the  purposes  of 
distinction,  to  make  use  of  the  terms  'American  policy '  and 
'  foreign  policy,'  that  he  should  not  have  applied  them  in  a  man- 
ner precisely  the  reverse  of  that  in  which  he  has  in  fact  useJ 
them.  If  names  are  thought  necessary,  it  would  be  well 


230  tVEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

enough,  one  would  think,  that  the  name  should  be  in  some 
measure  descriptive  of  the  thing  ;  and  since  Mr.  Speaker  de- 
nominates the  policy  which  he  recommends  'a  new  policy  in 
this  country  ; '  since  he  speaks  of  the  present  measure  as  a  new 
era  in  our  legislation  ;  since  he  professes  to  invite  us  to  depart 
from  our  accustomed  course,  to  instruct  ourselves  by  the  wis- 
dom of  others,  and  to  adopt  the  policy  of  the  most  distin- 
guished foreign  states, — one  is  a  little  curious  to  know  with 
what  propriety  of  speech  this  imitation  of  other  nations  is  de- 
nominated an  'American  policy,'  while,  on  the  contrary,  a  pre- 
ference for  our  own  established  system,  as  it  now  actually  ex- 
ists, and  always  has  existed,  is  called  a  '  foreign  policy.'  This 
favorite  American  policy  is  what  America  has  never  tried ;  and 
this  odious  foreign  policy  is  what,  as  we  are  told,  foreign  states 
have  never  pursued.  Sir,  that  is  the  truest  American  policy 
which  shall  most  usefully  employ  American  capital  and  Amer- 
ican labor,  and  best  sustain  the  whole  population.  With  me, 
it  is  a  fundamental  axiom — it  is  interwoven  with  all  my  opin- 
ions, that  the  great  interests  of  the  country  are  united  and  in- 
separable ;  that  agriculture,  commerce,  and  manufactures  will 
prosper  together,  or  languish  together ;  and  that  all  legislation 
is  dangerous  which  proposes  to  benefit  one  of  these  without 
looking  to  consequences  which  may  fall  on  the  others." 

It  was  during  this  congress  that  Mr.  Webster  delivered  his 
noted  argument  in  the  case  of  Gibbons  and  Ogderi.  The  state 
of  New  York,  in  gratitude  or  a  sense  of  obligation  to  Robert 
Fulton  for  his  invention  of  the  steamboat,  had  passed  several 
laws  giving  to  him  and  to  Robert  R.  Livingston  exclusive 
privileges  in  the  use  of  the  invention  upon  the  navigable  waters 
of  that  state.  The  first  act  of  the  kind  had  been  passed  on  the 
19th  of  March,  1787,  in  favor  of  John  Fitch,  which  gave  him 
the  right,  not  only  of  making  but  of  using,  every  kind  of  boat 
or  vessel  worked  by  steam,  in  all  creeks,  rivers,  bays  and  waters 
of  the  state  f  >r  fourteen  years.  Fitch  died  without  having 


CASE    OF    GIBBONS    AND    OGDEN.  231 

used  his  privilege ;  and,  consequently,  on  the  application  of 
Mr.  Livingston,  who  professed  to  have  in  his  possession  a  mode 
of  applying  the  steam  engine  to  the  propelling  of  a  boat,  on  a 
better  principle  than  was  known  to  Fitch,  the  state  of  New 
York  repealed  the  first  grant,  and  conferred  similar  privileges 
on  the  new  applicant.  A  third  act  was  passed,  on  the  5th  of 
April,  1803,  associating  Fulton  with  Livingston,  and  extending 
the  grant  to  twenty  years  from  its  date.  On  the  1 1th  of  April, 
1808,  a  fourth  act  was  passed,  extending  the  monopoly  five 
years  for  every  additional  boat,  the  whole  period,  however,  not 
to  exceed  thirty  years  ;  and  this  enactment  gave  to  Fulton  and 
Livingston  the  additional  right  of  selling  patents,  or  grants,  to 
other  persons,  who,  without  such  patents,  were  forbidden  the 
use  of  steam  for  the  purposes  of  navigation  within  the  state. 
So  great,  however,  was  the  temptation  to  infringe  upon  this 
monopoly,  that  the  legislature  found  it  necessary  to  pass  a 
fifth  and  final  act,  which  is  dated  the  9th  of  April,  1811,  and 
which  forfeits  any  boat  or  vessel  found  navigating  the  waters 
of  New  York  without  this  license,  without  the  necessity  of  a 
trial  or  the  judgment  of  any  court.  This  exclusive  privilege 
had  descended  to  Aaron  Ogden,  who  claimed  all  the  benefits 
<>f  all  these  acts  against  all  persons  whatsoever;  and  he  had, 
therefore,  brought  suit,  in  the  courts  of  New  York,  against 
Thomas  Gibbons,  who  was  charged  with  running  a  boat  pro- 
pelled by  steam  between  New  York  city  and  the  New  Jersey 
shore.  These  courts,  without  exception,  from  the  lowest  to 
the  highest  having  jurisdiction  of  the  case,  had  decided  for  the 
plaintiff;  and  the  cause  had  been  carried  by  appeal  from  the 
court  of  errors  of  the  state  of  New  York  to  the  supreme  court 
of  the  United  States.  Here  Mr.  Webster  was  given  the  man- 
agement of  the  case  ;  and  it  was  here  that  he  made  that  mas- 
terly argument,  which  not  only  reversed  the  decisions  of  all 
the  New  York  courts,  and  pronounced  all  the  acts  of  New 
York  unconstitutional,  null  and  void,  but  added  materially  to 


232  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

his  professional  reputation.  It  was  regarded  by  some  eminent 
lawyers  as  superior  to  his  argument  in  the  Dartmouth  College 
ease ;  and  Judge  Wayne,  a  quarter  of  a  century  after  its  de- 
livery, on  the  occasion  of  Mr.  Webster's  visiting  Georgia,  in 
the  spring  of  1847,  fixed  upon  this  argument  as  the  great  deed 
of  Mr.  Webster's  life,  deserving  the  gratitude  and  eulogy  of 
the  country.  "  From  one  of  your  constitutional  suggestions," 
says  the  judge,  in  addressing  the  honored  guest  of  the  state, 
'•'  every  man  in  the  land  has  been  more  or  less  benefitted. 
We  allude  to  it  with  the  greater  pleasure,  because  it  was  in  a 
controversy  begun  by  a  Georgian  in  behalf  of  the  constitutional 
rights  of  the  citizen.  When  the  late  Mr.  Thomas  Gibbons  de- 
termined to  put  to  hazard  a  large  part  of  his  fortune  in  testing 
the  constitutionality  of  the  laws  of  New  York,  limiting  the  nav- 
igation of  the  waters  of  that  state  to  steamers  belonging  to  a 
company,  his  own  interest  was  not  so  much  concerned  as  the 
right  of  every  citizen  to  use  a  coasting  license  upon  the  waters 
of  the  United  States,  in  whatever  way  their  vessels  might  be 
propelled.  It  was  a  sound  view  of  the  law,  but  not  broad 
enough  for  the  occasion.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  the  case  would 
have  been  decided  upon  it,  if  you  had  not  insisted,  that  it  should 
be  put  upon  the  broader  constitutional  ground  of  commerce 
and  navigation.  The  court  felt  the  application  and  force  of 
your  reasoning ;  and  it  made  a  decision  releasing  every  creek, 
and  river,  lake,  bay,  and  harbor  in  our  country  from  the  inter- 
ference of  monopolies,  which  had  already  provoked  unfriendly 
legislation  between  some  of  the  states,  and  which  would  have 
been  as  little  favorable  to  the  interest  of  Fulton,  as  they  were 
i,,iworthy  of  his  genius."  Here  it  will  seem,  indeed,  that  an 
act  of  which  many  even  of  Mr.  Webster's  friends,  it  may  be, 
have  never  heard,  is  taken  by  a  learned  jurist  as  a  deed  of  inex 
pressible  value;  and  the  student  of  Mr.  Webster's  extant  works, 
as  well  as  the  historiai:  of  h's  life,  often  passes  overacts,  compar 


RK-KLECTION    TO    THE    LOWER    HOUSE.  233 

ativciy  obscure,  which  would  have  been  brilliant,  which  would 
have .constituted  ep-K-hs,  in  the  life  of  many  of  our  first  men. 

During  the  second  session  of  the.  eighteenth  congress.  Mr. 
Webster,  as  chairman  of  the  judiciary  committee,  reported  the 
act- of  the  3d  of  March,  1825,  which  entirely  revolutionized 
the  criminal  jurisprudence  of  the  United  States.  The  old  act 
of  th«  30th  of  April,  1790,  though  as  wise  as  could  have  been 
expected  from  an  a  priori  view  of  the  then  future  wants  of  the 
Union,  had  been  found  by  experience  to  be  insufficient.  Cases 
had  been  constantly  coming  up  for  which  there  had  been  made 
no  provision  ;  and  other  cases,  quite  as  numerous,  had  raised 
without  determining  the  question  of  jurisdiction  between  the 
state  courts  and  the  courts  provided  by  the  national  constitu- 
tion. The  whole  subject  demanded  a  revision ;  and  that  work 
happily  fell,  in  great  part,  into_  the  hands  of  Mr.  Webster 
II is  bill  "more  effectually  to  provide  for  the  punishment  of 
certain  crimes  against  the  United  States,  and  for  other  pur- 
poses," has  now  been  before  the  country  for  nearly  thirty  years, 
without  complaint,  without  revision,  a  monument  to  Mr.  Web- 
ster's legislative  and  legal  wisdom. 

With  this  act,  Mr.  Webster  would  have  closed,  with  the 
close  of  his  first  terra  from  Boston,  his  connection  with  con- 
gress, had  it  not  been  for  the  great  urgency  and  unparalleled 
unanimity  of  his  constituents.  Though  he  had  expressed  his 
desire  of  being  released  from  office,  and  had  taken  pains  to  in- 
form his  most  intimate  friends  at  home  of  this  wish,  he  was 
prevailed  upon  to  stand  an  election  for  the  lower  house  of  the 
nineteenth  congress;  and  the  result  proved,  not  only  the  wis- 
dom of  his  constituents,  but  his  own  unbounded  popularity. 
Out  of  five  thousand  votes  cast,  he  received  four  thousand  nine 
hundred  and  ninety ;  and  the  ten  votes  serve  only  to  show 
that  this  remarkable  unanimity  was  not  because  there  was  no 
candidate  against  him. 

It  was  during  tl'e  interim  of  his  first  and  second  appearance 


234  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

as  a  representative  from  Boston,  that  Mr.  Webster  pronounced 
his  first  oration  at  Bunker  Hill,  on  the  occasion  <>f  laying  the 
corner  stone  of  the  monument  to  be  there  erected.  Such  a 
monument  had  long  been  contemplated  ;  not  only  the  legisla 
ture  of  Massachusetts,  but  congress  itself,  had  resolved,  at  dif 
ferent  times,  to  commemorate  the  fall  of  Warren  and  the  first 
great  battle  of  the  revolution,  by  some  such  testimonial;  but 
it  was  no't  till  about  this  period,  the  year  1825,  that  the  work 
was  undertaken,  and  the  great  debt  paid.  For  the  perform- 
ance of  the  ceremony  itself,  of  laying  the  first  stone,  there 
could  scarcely  have  been  a  more  propitious  time.  Congress, 
in  the  fulness  of  its  gratitude,  had  invited  General  Lafayette"  to 
visit  the  country  he  had  helped  to  save,  and  be  the  guest  of  the 
whole  nation ;  the  general  was  now  here,  passing  from  one  sec- 
tion to  another,  and  everywhere  receiving  the  warmest  bene- 
dictions of  the  people ;  and,  in  the  work  now  in  hand,  it  was 
most  opportune  that  he,  the  representative  of  the  revolutionary 
struggle,  in  which  the  great  Warren  fell,  could  be  present  on 
the  occasion,  and  take  in  it  a  conspicuous  part.  Everything 
conspired  to  make  the  day  memorable.  It  was  the  fiftieth  an- 
niversary of  the  battle  ;  and  nature  herself  seemed  to  conspire 
to  shed  on  it  her  seleetest  charms.  "  The  morning,"  says  Mr. 
Frothingham,  in  his  history  of  the  siege  of  Boston,  "  proved 
propitious.  The  air  was  cool,  the  sky  was  clear,  and  timely 
showers  the  previous  day  had  brightened  the  verdure  into  its 
loveliest  hue.  Delighted  thousands  flocked  into  Boston  to  bear 
a  part  in  the  proceedings,  or  to  witness  the  spectacle.  At 
about  ten  oclock,  a  procession  moved  from  the  State  House 
toward  Bunker  Hill.  The  military,  in  their  fine  uniforms, 
formed  the  van.  About  two  hundred  veterans  of  the  revolu- 
tion, of  whom  forty  were  survivors  of  the  battle,  rode  in  ba- 
rouches, next  to  the  escort.  These  venerable  men,  the  relics 
of  a  past  generation,  with  emaciated  frames,  tottering  limbs 
and  trembling  vo:ces,  constituted  a  touching  spectacle.  Some 


RE-ENTERS    CONGRESS.  235 

wore,  as  honorable  decorations,  their  old  fighting  equipments 
and  some  bore  the  scars  of  still  more  honorable  wounds 
Glistening  eyes  constituted  their  answer  to  the  enthusiastic 
cheers  of  the  grateful  multitudes  who  lined  their  pathway  and 
cheered  their  progress.  To  this  patriot  band,  succeeded  the 
Bunker  Hill  Monument  Association.  Then  the  masonic  fra- 
ternity, in  their  splendid  regalia,  thousands  in  number.  Then 
Lafayette,  continually  welcomed  by  tokens  of  love  and  grati- 
tude, and  the  invited  guests.  Then  a  long  array  of  societies, 
with  their  various  badges  and  banners.  It  was  a  splendid  pro- 
cession, and  of  such  length  that  the  front  nearly  reached  Charles- 
town  Bridge,  ere  the  rear  had  left  Boston  Common.  It  pro- 
ceeded to  Breed's  HilL  where  the  grand  master  of  the  Freema- 
sons, the  president  of  the  Monument  Association,  and  General 
Lafayette,  performed  the  ceremony  of  laying  the  corner-stone, 
in  the  presence  of  a  vast  concourse  of  people."  "  The  proces- 
sion then  moved,"  says  Mr.  Everett,  "  to  a  spacious  amphithe- 
ater, on  the  northern  declivity  of  the  hill,  where  the  address 
was  delivered  by  Mr.  Webster,  in  presence  of  as  great  a  mul- 
titude as  was  ever,  perhaps,  assembled  within  the  sound  of 
a  human  voice."  That  address  needs  no  eulogy  ;  nor  w<  mid 
any  quotations  do  it  justice  ;  as  it  has  lone  'K'en  r?&d  and  eu- 
logized, from  beginning  to  end,  as  equal  to  any  other  similar 
production  not  from  the  hand  of  Mr.  Webster. 

On  entering  congress  the  third  time,  and  the  second  time 
from  Massachusetts,  Mr.  Webster  found  several  important, 
changes  in  the  government,  and  in  the  state  of  parties.  The 
'•  era  of  good  feeling,"  as  Mr.  Monroe's  administration  was  de- 
nominated, had  passed  by  ;  and  an  era  of  very  bitter  feeling 
had  been  instaurated  in  the  election  of  John  Quincy  Adams. 
In  summing  up  the  votes  of  the  people,  it  had  been  discovered 
that  Mr.  Adams  had  received  a  popular  majority ;  but  the 
votes  in  the  electoral  college  had  stood  ninety-nine  for  Andrew 
Jackson,  eighty-four  for  John  Q.  Adams,  forty-one  for  W'Jliam 


236  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

H.  Crawford,  and  thirty-seven  for  Henry  Clay.  There  being 
no  majority  for  either  of  the  candidates,  the  election  had  de- 
volved on  the  house  of  representatives  at  its  previous  session ; 
and  the  votes  cast  for  Mr.  Clay,  by  the  agency  of  Mr.  Webster 
having  been  obtained  for  Mr.  Adams,  Mr.  Adams  had  been 
successful.  But  it  was  one  of  those  victories  which  are  more 
disastrous  than  a  defeat.  The  friends  of  Jackson  raised  the  cry 
throughout  the  country,  that  the  expressed  will  of  the  people 
had  been  defeated  ;  and  as  the  votes  originally  thrown  for  Mr. 
Clay  had  been  finally  given  to  Mr.  Adams,  it  was  said  that 
Mr.  Clay  had  sold  himself  to  Mr.  Adams  for  the  chance  of 
being  adopted  by  the  new  president  as  his  successor.  There 
probably  was  never  invented  a  greater  slander.  The  accusa- 
tion stands  only  on  suspicion  ;  and  the  suspicion  is  based  on 
no  evidence.  It  is  just  as  supposable  that  the  friends  of  Mr. 
Clay  voted  for  Mr.  Adams  at  their  own  option,  when  freed 
from  their  original  obligation  by  the  impossibility  of  electing 
Mr.  Clay,  as  that  they  were  directed  to  vote  as  they  did  by 
Mr.  Clay  himself;  and,  even  if  so  directed,  it  is  quite  as  natu- 
ral that  Mr.  Clay,  on  giving  up  his  own  chance,  should  make 
the  preference  of  Mr.  Adams,  a  political  friend,  against  Mr. 
Jackson  and  Mr.  Crawford,  who  were  not  his  political  friends, 
without  as  with  a  bargain.  Any  other  course  would  have  been 
a  very  great  inconsistency.  The  slander,  nevertheless,  gained 
ground  by  the  mere  force  of  repetition  ;  it  was  reiterated  to  the 
day  of  Mr.  Clay's  death  ;  and  he  carried  to  his  grave,  no  doubt, 
the  heavy  grief  of  having  been  stigmatized  with  a  crime  of  which 
he  was  wholly  innocent.  He  carried  with  him,  too,  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  fact,  that  it  was  this  malicious  charge,  which  had 
not  only  given  the  victory  to  one  of  his  competitors  at  the  next 
succeeding  election,  but  had  blasted  his  own  prospects  for  the 
same  honor  through  a  long  lifev  devoted,  with  no  less  zeal,  tc 
he  best  good  and  highest  glory  of  his  country. 


CLAY    AND    ADAMS.  237 

It  would  certainly  not  be  in  place  to  defend,  at  any  length, 
the  reputation  of  Mr.  Clay  in  a  memoir  of  Mr.  Webster ;  but 
the  case  above  stated  calls  up  reflections  which  must  have  been 
experienced  by  nearly  every  intelligent  American.  There  is 
too  much  personality  allowed  to  enter  into  our  party  strifes. 
There  was  too  much,  on  both  sides,  in  the  presidential  elections 
succeeding  the  first  election  of  Mr.  Adams ;  and  it  grew  out 
of  what  every  careful  and  candid  reader  must  know  was  a  case 
of  mere  suspicion  without  proof.  Mr.  Adams  gets  the  popular 
but  not  the  constitutional  vote.  Mr.  Clay  had  been,  and  then 
was,  a  political  friend  of  Mr.  Adams,  and  so  the  friends  of  Mr. 
Clay,  seeing  no  chance  of  electing  their  own  candidate,  cast 
their  votes  for  Mr.  Adams.  Upon  this,  without  a  show  of 
farther  testimony,  forgetting  charity  and  even  common  propri- 
ety, a  whole  party  accuses  Mr.  Clay  of  an  act,  which  no  respect- 
able man,  of  even  ordinary  standing,  or  ordinary  intelligence, 
or  decent  self-respect,  could  perform.  As  an  offset,  in  the  next 
election,  Mr.  Jackson  is  charged  with  the  foulest  of  crimes, 
with  insubordination  to  his  superiors,  with  peculation  in  office, 
and  in  fact  with  cold-blooded  murder.  As  a  rejoinder,  an  ap- 
peal is  made  against  Mr.  Clay  for  having  sold  himself,  his  con- 
stituents, his  former  principles,  his  country,  when  the  country 
well  knows,  if  it  knows  anything  of  the  Kentucky  character,  or 
of  the  character  of  the  most  illustiious  son  of  Kentucky,  that 
he  would  have  despised  the  very  suggestion  of  such  a  bargain, 
and  scorned  the  man,  high  or  low,  who  should  have  proposed 
it  to  him.  Still  the  charge  proceeds.  It  has  its  effect  upon  the 
people,  Adams  gets  his  place  temporarily ;  but  Jackson, 
backed  by  an  "  outraged  people,"  puts  him  out  at  the  first  op- 
portunity. So  the  work  goes  on,  making  the  life  of  a  states- 
man the  life  of  a  politician,  and  the  life  of  a  politician  so  sus- 
pected, as  to  revive  and  almost  justify  the  satire  of  the  English 
eulo<ri?<;  of  Indolence : 


WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER -PIECES 

"  The  puzzling  sons  of  party  next  appeared, 
In  dark  cabals  And  nitthtly  juntoes  nu-t; 
And  now  they  whispered  close,  now  shrusrping  reared 
The  important  shoulder;  then,  as  if  to  get 
New  Ihrht.  their  twinkling  eyes  were  in  wonder  set. 
No  sooner  Lucifer  recalls  affairs, 
Than  forth  they  rush  in  mijrhty  fret; 
When,  lo !  pushed  up  to  power,  and  crowned  their  cures, 
In  comes  another  set,  and  kicketh  them  down  stairs." 

This  satire,  however,  upon  the  whole,  is  not  sustained  by  tht 
political  history  of  this  country  in  its  higher  departments. 
Generally,  and  more  in  later  years  than  formerly,  candidates 
for  the  first  offices,  though  compelled  to  walk  through  a  suf- 
ficiently fiery  ordeal,  are  treated  with  decent  consideration 
From  the  bitter  days  now  alluded  to,  there  has  been  a  change 
for  the  better  constantly  growing  in  the  public  mind ;  and  to 
no  one  individual  is  the  country  more  indebted,  for  this  more 
wholesome  state  of  things,  than  to  Mr.  Webster.  His  uniform 
courtesy  as  a  debater,  his  respectful  consideration  of  an  oppo- 
nent even  when  assailed,  the  cool  and  dispassionate  manner  in 
which  he  always  treated  the  most  reckless  controversies,  to- 
gether with  occasional  reproofs  of  the  opposite  practice,  have 
done  as  much,  perhaps,  as  anything  else  to  correct  the  heat  of 
party  strife,  and  show  to  every  American,  that  nothing  is  lost 
by  treating  an  opponent  with  respect,  or  even  with  considera- 
tion. In  writing  out  a  deliberate  statement  of  his  principles  in 
1840,  he  exposed  the  evil  of  this  excessive  partisan  spirit ; 
and,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  his  life,  he  acted  in  obe 
dience  to  the  import  of  his  own  language.  "  We  believe,  too," 
he  says,  "that  party  spirit,  however  natural  or  unavoidable  it 
mav  be  in  free  republics,  \vt,  when  it  gains  such  an  ascendency 
in  men's  minds  as  leads  them  to  substitute  party  for  country, 
to  seek  vio  ends  but  party  ends,  no  approbation  but  party  ap- 
probation, and  to  fear  no  reproach  or  contumely  so  that  there 
be  no  party  dissatis/uction,  not  only  allays  the  true  enjoyment 


REMODEiS    THK    JUDICIAL    SYSTEM.  239 

of  such  institutions,  Init  weakens,  everyday,  the  foundations  on 
w!;i.-h  they  stand  " 

On  the  4th  of  January,  1826,  Mr.  Webster,  again  chairman 
of  the  judiciary  committee,  reported  a  bill  proposing  to  reor- 
gani/e  the  supreme  court  of  the  United  States,  which,  in  its  ex- 
iting condition,  was  not  adequate  to  the  duties  laid  upon  it  by 
the  constitution.  By  the  original  act  of  September,  1789,  the 
court  had  Wen  made  to  consist  of  six  judges;  and  it  had  been 
authorized  to  hold  two  sessions  a  year  at  Washington.  The 
United  States,  by  the  same  act,  had  been  divided  into  districts, 
and  the  districts  had  been  apportioned  out  into  three  circuits, 
the  eastern,  the  middle,  and  the  southern ;  and  twice  in  each 
year  there  was  to  be  a  circuit  court  held  in  each  district,  to  be 
con i posed  of  two  of  the  judges  of  the  supreme  court,  and  the 
district  judge  for  the  district.  The  judges  of  the  supreme  court, 
then-fore,  had  to  hold  two  courts  a  year  at  the  seat  of  govern- 
ment, and  then  travel,  two  by  two,  to  all  the  districts  of  the 
Union  twice  a  year.  This  burden  no  man  could  bear.  The 
judges  themselves,  in  November,  1792,  had  addressed  the 
president  on  the  subject.  Their  communication  was  laid  before 
congress ;  and  congress,  to  relieve  the  judges,  passed  an  act 
making  the  circuit  court  to  consist  of  one  judge  of  the  supreme 
court  associated  with  the  district  judge.  By  a  subsequent  act, 
passed  in  February,  1801,  the  judges  of  the  supreme  court,  to 
be  reduced  from  six  to  five,  had  been  relieved  from  all  connec- 
tion with  the  circuit  courts ;  and  their  circuit  duties  had  been 
c<  >uferred  on  circuit  judges  appointed  for  the  purpose.  This  act, 
which  lasted  but  a  single  year,  was  superseded  by  the  acts  of 
the  8th  of  March  and  the  29th  of  April,  1802,  the  first  of 
which  repealed  al<  its  predecessor-;,  and  the  second,  abolishing 
the  itinerant  characte?  of  the  circuit  courts,  assigned  particular 
judges  of  the  supreme  court  to  particular  circuits.  These  acts 
had  been  regarded  as  great  improvements  in  the  judicial  sys- 
tem, as  they  assigned  to  each  judge  no  more  labor  than  he  could 


340  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

reasonably  be  expected  to  perform,  and  gave  to  each  court  the 
privilege  of  going  through  with  every  case  brought  before  it, 
however  long  it  might  continue  on  its  docket,  without  a  change 
of  the  individuals  constituting  the  tribunal.  In  1807,  however, 
it  became  necessary,  on  account  of  the  rapid  extension  of  the 
population  westward,  to  make  a  new  circuit  for  the  western 
states,  to  which  a  new  judge  was  appointed.  This  was  the  con- 
dition of  the  supreme  court  of  the  United  States,  and  these 
were  the  duties  of  its  judges,  both  at  Washington  and  in  the 
circuit  courts,  when  the  new  system  was  brought  forward  by 
Mr.  Webster. 

The  proposition  of  Mr.  Webster  was,  that  the  supreme  court 
of  the  United  States  should  consist  of  a  chief  justice  and  of 
nine  associate  justices ;  that,  as  soon  as  it  should  become  ne- 
cessary, three  additional  associate  justices  should  be  appointed; 
that  so  much  of  the  previous  acts  as  vested  in  the  district 
courts,  in  certain  of  the  western  states,  the  powers  and  prerog- 
atives of  circuit  courts,  snould  be  repealed  ;  and  that  there 
should  henceforth  be  regular  circuit  courts  in  such  districts, 
consisting,  as  the  others,  of  a  judge  of  the  supreme  court  of  the 
United  States  and  the  district  judg°  of  the  district  in  whioh  the 
circuit  court  should  be  held. 

In  defense  of  this  proposition  Mr.  Webster  spoke  twice,  in 
both  of  which  speeches  he  employed  a  style  peculiarly  adapted 
to  the  subject.  Some  of  those  who  opposed  his  bill  were  pas- 
sionate, vociferous,  and  declamatory.  He,  on  the  contrary, 
was  more  cool,  more  deliberate,  than  was  his  custom.  The 
topic  he  regarded  as  too  grave  for  displays  of  rhetoric  or  of  elo- 
cution. "  This,  sir,  must  be  alloyed,  and  is  on  all  harids  al 
lowed,"  said  he  in  reply  to  certain  intemperate  debaters,  "to 
be  a  measure  of  great  and  general  interest.  It  respects  that 
important  branch  of  government,  the  judiciary  ;  and  something 
of  a  judicial  trne  of  discussion  is  not  unsuitable  to  the  occasion. 
We  cannot  treat  the  subject  too  calmly,  or  too  dispassionately. 


MISSION    TO    PANAMA.  241 

For  mjself,  I  feel  that  I  have  no  pride  of  opinion  to  gratify,  no 
eagerness  of  debate  to  be  indulged,  no  competition  to  be  pur- 
sued. I  hope  I  may  say,  without  impropriety,  that  I  am  not 
insensible  to  the  responsibility  of  my  own  situation  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  house,  and  a  member  of  the  committee.  I  am 
aware  of  no  prejudice  which  should  draw  my  mind  from  the 
single  and  solicitous  contemplation  of  what  may  be  best ;  and  I 
have  listened  attentively,  through  the  whole  course  of  this  de- 
bate, not  with  the  feelings  of  one  who  is  meditating  the  means 
of  replying  to  objections,  or  escaping  from  their  force,  but  with 
an  unaffected  anxiety  to  give  every  argument  its  just  weight, 
and  with  a  perfect  readiness  to  abandon  this  measure,  at  any 
moment,  in  favor  of  any  other,  which  should  appear  to  have 
solid  grounds  of  preference."  Such  candor,  added  to  such 
ability,  had  its  effect.  The  tone  of  debate  was  at  once  softened 
down ;  the  most  perfect  courtesy  thereafter  characterized  the 
debate  ;  and,  though  all  the  amendments  of  the  judicial  system, 
proposed  by  Mr.  Webster,  were  not  adopted  at  that  time,  the 
main  feature  of  it  has  been  adopted,  and  is  in  practical  opera- 
tion at  the  present  day. 

The  party  opposed  to  the  administration  of  Mr.  Adams, 
composed  of  a  very  heterogeneous  combination  of  materials, 
went  into  the  nineteenth  congress  breathing  vengeance  upon 
the  man  who  had  bargained,  as  in  common  traffic,  for  his  ex- 
alted place.  The  president,  however,  was  not  only  a  learned, 
a  wise,  but  a  very  prudent  man  ;  and  it  was  not  easy  to  find, 
in  anything  he  had  said  or  done,  or  was  likely  to  say  or  do,  a 
point  giving  a  reasonable  opportunity  of  attack.  After  dili- 
gent search,  and  by  no  little  conspiracy  of  the  leaders  of  the 
opposition,  they  agreed  to  fasten  upon  a  single  passage  of  his 
message,  in  which  he  had  spoken  of  having  determined  to  send 
commissioners  to  the  celebrated  congress  of  Panama.  What 
was  the  object  of  that  congress  ?  Was  it  not  a  meeting  of  del- 
egates from  Mexico  and  the  Spanish  South  American  states,  who 


'*M2  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

proposed  u  general  confederacy  for  their  own  protection  against 
a  combination  of  European  sovereigns  1  What  right,  it  was 
asked,  had  the  president  to  send  ministers  to  such  a  congress ? 
What  powers  were  they  to  have,  and  what  duties  were  they 
to  perform,  as  members  of  that  body  ?  Were  they  to  go 
there  to  concoct  a  general  alliance  with  the  Spanish- American 
states  of  central  and  southern  America,  by  which  the  Uni  .ed 
States  should  be  bound  to  defend  those  states  in  their  revolu- 
tionary measures,  and  to  go  to  war  with  Spain  and  other  for- 
eign governments  in  a  cause  not  at  all  our  own  ?  Were  we 
now  to  forget  the  true  policy  of  our  country,  as  laid  down  by 
the  fathers  of  the  great  republic,  and  get  into  "tangling  alli- 
ances" with  other  nations,  and  thus  draw  ourselves  into  all  the 
miseries  of  the  new  and  the  wiles  of  the  old  world  1  No, 
never,  was  the  general  and  patriotic  response,  when  every  man, 
on  whose  lips  this  reply  was  found,  knew  perfectly  well,  that 
Mr.  Adams  had  entertained  no  such  designs.  They  knew  very 
well,  that,  as  the  states  mentioned  had  recently  declared  and 
maintained  their  independence,  new  relations  had  arisen  be- 
tween them  and  the  United  States,  calling  for  a  thorough  dis- 
cussion, and  a  good  degree  of  care  on  our  part,  lest  those  states 
should  themselves,  unobserved  or  unresisted  by  us,  form  such 
an  alliance  among  themselves  as  would  be  injurious  to  our 
commerce,  and  perhaps  endanger  our  peace.  They  knew  as 
well  as  did* the  president,  that  there  were  then  rumors  afloat 
in  regard  to  the  independence  of  Cuba ;  that  Cuba  had  been 
invited  to  join  the  general  alliance  of  the  central  and  southern 
states  of  America ;  and  that,  if  there  were  no  other  grounds, 
this  fact  was  a  sufficient  reason  for  sending  commissioners  or 
agents  to  the  congress  of  Panama,  who  should  be  empowered 
to  discuss  every  question  therein  arising,  to  resist  what  would 
be  hurtful  to  the  interests  of  their  country,  and  to  acquiesce  in 
whatever  might  promise,  on  the  maturest  deliberation,  to  do 
us  good.  Having  been  invited  to  send  such  commissioners 


SPEECH    ON    THE    MISSION.  243 

by  the  Spanish-American  states  themselves,  it  .vas  certainly  a 
wise  proposition,  and  perfectly  constitutional,  to  have  the  coun- 
try represented  in  that  assembly  ;  and  the  president,  with  the 
consent  of  the  senate,  had  made  appointments  in  accordance 
with  this  view  of  his  right,  responsibility  and  duty.  In  his  an- 
nual message  he  had  requested  the  house,  not  to  give  him  ad- 
vice respecting  the  propriety  of  his  measure,  or  to  share  that 
responsibility  with  him,  but  simply  to  make  the  necessary  ap- 
propriations to  defray  the  expenses  of  the  commission.  This 
request  brought  the  subject  to  the  notice,  and  put  the  destiny 
of  it  at  the  mercy,  of  the  house;  and  the  opposition  members, 
not  scrupling  to  undertake  the  most  novel  aud  extraordinary 
course,  proposed  either  to  withhold  the  appropriation  altogether, 
or  so  to  limit  by  instructions  the  powers  of  the  commission 
as  to  render  it  totally  inefficient,  and  thus  make  it  a  laughing- 
stock to  our  own  people  and  to  other  nations.  While  the 
question  was  in  this  condition,  embarrassed  on  all  sides,  and 
particularly  embarrassed  by  a  discussion  which  had  become 
exceedingly  intemperate  and  abusive,  Air.  Webster  rose  in  the 
house,  in  his  easy  and  conciliatory  manner,  and  delivered  what 
was  universally  acknowledged  at  the  time,  and  what  has  ever 
since  been  acknowledged,  as  the  most  eloquent,  powerful,  and 
effective  effort  of  the  nineteenth  congress  :  "  The  president  and 
senate,"  said  the  orator,  "have  instituted  a  public  mission,  for 
the  purpose  of  treating  with  foreign  states.  The  constitution 
gives  to  the  president  the  power  of  appointing,  with  the  con 
sent  of  the  senate,  ambassadors  and  other  public  ministers 
Such  appointment  is,  therefore,  a  clear  and  unquestionable  e* 
ercise  of  executive  power.  It  is,  indted,  less  connected  with 
the  appropriate  duties  of  the  house,  than  almost  any  other  ex 
ecutive  act,  because  the  office  of  a  public  minister  is  not  crea 
ted  by  any  statute  or  law  of  our  own  government.  It  exists 
under  the  lf»w  of  nations,  and  is  recognized  as  existing  by  om 
constitution.  The  acts  of  congress,  indeed,  limit  the  salaries 
VOL.  i.  K  10 


244  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

of  public  ministers;  but  they  do  no  more.  Everything  else  in 
regard  tt  the  appointment  of  public  ministers — their  numbers, 
the  time  of  their  appointment,  and  the  negotiations  contempla- 
ted in  such  appointments  —  is  matter  for  executive  discretion. 
Every  new  appointment  to  supplv  vacancies  in  existing  mis- 
sions is  under  the  same  authority.  There  are,  indeed,  what 
we  commonly  term  standing  missions,  so  known  in  the  prac- 
tice of  the  government,  but  they  are  not  permanent  by  any 
law.  All  missions  rest  on  the  same  ground.  Now  the  ques- 
tion is,  whether,  the  president  and  senate  having  created  this 
mission,  or,  in  other  words,  having  appointed  the  ministers,  in. 
the  exercise  of  their  undoubted  constitutional  power,  this  house 
will  take  upon  itself  the  responsibility  of  defeating  its  objects, 
and  rendering  this  exercise  of  executive  power  void."  Mr.  Web- 
ster then  went  into  a  particular  examination  of  the  arguments 
advanced  by  the  opposition,  in  which  he  showed  the  utter  fu- 
tility of  all  their  reasoning,  followed  them  through  all  their  wind- 
ings, and  drove  them  from  their  ground  by  arguments  which 
they  never  knew  how  to  answer.  He  clearly  proved,  that,  as 
the  president  had  the  right  of  making  the  appointments,  the 
house  must  either  grant  or  refuse,  without  instructions,  the 
needed  appropriations ;  and  that,  though  the  subject  was  too 
delicate  for  open  and  unrestricted  debate,  there  were  doubtless 
such  objects  of  an  important  character,  and  of  great  interest  to 
the  country,  to  be  secured,  or  at  least  watched,  in  the  contem- 
plated congress,  as  to  justify  the  appointments  which  had  been 
made  by  the  president  and  senate. 

Besides  this  constitutional  and  general  argument,  Mr.  Web- 
ster presented  a  most  conclusive  reason  for  the  mission,  drawn 
from  the  celebrated  declaration  of  President  Monroe.  It  had 
come  to  the  knowledge  of  that  gentleman,  about  the  time  when 
the  independence  of  the  South  American  and  Mexican  states 
had  been  acknowledged  by  this  country,  that  there  was  a  plan 
on  foot  in  Europe  for  a  sort  of  Holy  Alliance  in  reference  to 


ADAMS    AND   JEFFERSON.  24-) 

American  affairs;  and  the  first  undertaking  of  this  combina- 
tion was  to  be  the  re-subjugation  of  the  Spanish  provinces  of 
America,  that  no  similar  attempts  might  be  made,  without 
fear  of  the  general  wrath  of  the  great  kings  of  Europe,,  in  any 
other  quarter  of  the  globe.  The  fact  of  this  royal  conspiracy 
had  been  presented  by  Mr.  Monroe  to  his  cabinet,  which  con- 
sisted of 'Adams,  Crawford,  Calhoun,  Southard,  and  Wirt ;  and 
they,  as  it  seems,  had  not  only  advised  the  declaration  of  Mon- 
roe, which  forbids  all  foreign  governments  from  interfering  with 
the  domestic  arrangements  of  this  continent,  but  had  resolved 
to  defend  the  continent  against  all  such  interference  at  every 
hazard.  That  president,  therefore,  by  the  consent  and  coop 
eration,  not  of  Adams  only,  but  of  Crawford  and  Calhoun,  now 
the  opponents  of  Adams  on  this  very  ground,  had  resolved  to 
take  the  continent  under  the  special  protection  of  this  govern- 
ment ;  but  Mr.  Adams,  when  his  turn  came  as  president,  not 
to  defend  other  nations,  but  to  look  after  the  interests  of  our 
own,  proposed  simply  to  send  commissioners  to  discuss  ques 
tions  of  great  interest  to  the  United  States,  and  to  form  treaties 
of  trade  and  business  with  the  new  states,  when,  lo  !  his  former 
associates,  who  had  been  deeper  in  the  Monroe  doctrine  than 
he  was  now  himself,  followed  by  the  whole  opposition  party, 
raised  the  clamor  of  "  Quixotism,"  of  "tangling  alliances,"  of 
"going  abroad  for  trouble,"  in  a  style  more  bitter  and  personal 
than  had  ever  before  been  witnessed  in  this  country ! 

The  speech  on  the  mission  to  Panama  was  made  on  the 
14th  of  April,  1826  ;  and  in  the  November  following,  in  the 
interim  of  the  two  sessions  of  the  nineteenth  congress,  Mr. 
Webster  was  elected  to  the  twentieth  congress  with  scarcely  a 
show  of  opposition.  Having,  at  the  close  of  the  first  session 
of  the  eighteenth  or  current  congress,  retired  to  the  practice 
of  his  profession,  which  he  still  cherished  abov.e  all  the  honors 
of  public  life,  he  was  called  to  serve  on  an  occasion,  which,  as 
it  can  scarcely  be  supposed  ever  to  occur  again,  would  be  as 


246  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

little  likely  ever  to  find  a  man  <<o  entirely  equal  to  its  dttnands 
On  the  4th  of  July,  1826,  John  Adams,  the  second  president 
of  the  Union,  the  early  friend  of  American  independence, 
the  glorious  patriot  beloved  and  admired  by  millions  of  his 
grateful  countrymen,  died  in  peace  at  Quincy.  It  was  regarded 
as  a  most  remarkable  coincidence,  that  he,  who  might  be  con- 
sidered, without  disparagement  to  others,  as  the  ablest  sup- 
porter of  the  declaration  of  independence,  should  be  permitted 
to  hallow  the  day  by  his  death.  It  was  still  more  remarkable, 
that  that  very  day  was  the  fiftieth  anniversary,  the  jubilee  day, 
of  the  ever-memorable  event.  As  he  was  gradually  dying,  but 
still  conscious  of  everything  about  him,  the  departing  patriot 
seemed  to  be  perfectly  aware  of  the  day ;  and  his  thoughts 
turned  at  once  to  the  illustrious  deed,  which,  just  half  a  century 
before,  had  given  birth  to  a  nation  now  rejoicing  all  around  him 
with  a  general  and  almost  tumultuous  joy.  He  thought,  too, 
of  his  noble  compatriots  of  that  early  day,  and  mentioned  sev 
eral  of  them  with  an  affection  that  moved  the  spectators  of  his 
death  to  tears ;  but,  giving  to  Washington  and  Franklin  their 
highest  praise,  he  seemed  to  dwell  on  the  name  of  Jefferson 
with  a  peculiar  interest.  And  there  was  certainly  good  reason 
why  the  departing  sage  should  evince  extraordinary  emotion 
over  the  memory  of  that  extraordinary  man.  Though  oppo- 
site in  respect  of  party,  they  had  been  associated,  in  a  singular 
manner,  in  the  greatest  and  most  illustrious  acts  which  they 
had  individually  performed.  They  were  associated  in  the 
recollections  of  their  countrymen,  also,  not  only  by  these  re- 
semblances^in  their  lives,  but  by  the  deep  contrasts  that  sepa- 
rated them  in  other  things.  They  had  been  the  leading  repre- 
sentatives of  the  two  leading  colonies  in  the  congress  of  the 
re  volution.  They  had  been  the  champions  of  the  two  great 
parties  into  which  the  country  was  even  from  the  first 
more  or  less  divided.  They  had  both  been  members  of  the 
committee  to  draft  the  declaration  of  independence.  They  had 


DEATH    OF    THE    TWO    PATRIOTS.  24'< 

been  the  two  leading  members  of  this  committee,  Mr.  Jeffer 
son  having  the  preference  over  Mr.  Adams  by  a  single  vote. 
They  had  constituted  the  famous  sub-committee,  to  which  the 
general  committee,  consisting  of  Jefferson,  Adams,  Franklin, 
Sherman,  and  Livingston,  had  confided  the  high  duty  of  making 
the  first  draft  of  the  declaration.  They  had  both  occupied  the 
office  of  secretary  of  state,  and  both  the  higher  office  of  presi- 
dent of  the  United  States  ;  and  when  Mr.  Jefferson  obtained 
the  office,  he  had  obtained  it  by  a  majority  of  only  one  vote  over 
his  competitor,  Mr.  Adams.  Neither  of  them  had  been  a 
member  of  the  convention  which  formed  the  constitution,  nei- 
ther had  ever  been  a  member  of  congress  after  its  adoption, 
though  both  had  represented  the  country,  as  public  ministers, 
at  foreign  courts.  They  had  both  been  members  of  the  same 
profession,  though  neither  of  them  had  ever  depended  upon 
their  practice  either  for  their  livelihood;  or  for  those  distinctions 
which  had  crowned  both  alike.  Through  their  whole  lives, 
though  opposite  in  very  important  particulars,  they  had  been 
united  in  many  others ;  and  it  had  grown  to  be  a  habit  of  speech, 
throughout  the  country,  and  throughout  the  civilized  world, 
as  it  is  at  this  day,  to  associate  and  mention  the  two  names  to- 
gether. Par  nobile  fratrum  !  The  one,  now  dying  in  his 
home  at  Quincy,  with  his  last  breath  spoke  of  his  illustrious 
brother,  who,  he  supposed,  though  aged  and  broken  in  health, 
was  to  survive  him  ;  but,  what  has  ever  seemed  the  strangest 
of  all  these  wonderful  coincidences,  on  that  very  day,  the  day 
of  the  declaration,  the  day  of  the  nation's  anniversary,  the  day 
of  jubilee  of  that  anniversary,  the  day  which  resigned  John 
Adams  to  the  hands  of  God  and  the  immortality  that  awaited 
him,  Thomas  Jefferson  breathed  his  last  in  his  own  peaceful 
retreat  at  Monticello!  In  spite  of  their  opposite  views  in  pol- 
itics, in  spite  of  their  frequent  opposition  as  candidates  for  of- 
fice, they  had  always  •cherished  for  each  other  the  warmest 
friendship  and  affection;  and  now,  "lovely  and  pleasant  in 


248  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

their  lives,  in  their  death  they  were  not  divided;"  and  the 
whole  nation,  astonished  at  the  apparently  miraculous  manner 
of  their  departure,  and  in  tears  over  the  loss  suffered  by  their 
surviving  countrymen,  adopted,  with  one  voice,  the  king  of  Is- 
rael's lamentation  :  "  How  are  the  mighty  fallen,  and  the  weap- 
ons of  war  perished  !"  There  was  weeping  that  day  mingled 
with  rejoicing.  For  days  and  weeks  afterwards,  the  wonderful 
event  was  the  only  topic  of  conversation.  Every  one  seemed 
to  see  the  hand  of  God  in  every  one  of  these  singular  coinci- 
dences. The  pulpits  made  free  use  of  the  grand  event  in  en- 
forcing the  doctrine  of  a  special  providence.  Patriots  spoke 
of  it  as  a  lesson  to  the  country  in  respect  to  union.  All  classes 
had  something  to  say  of  it,  some  lesson  or  moral  to  draw  from 
it,  peculiar  to  themselves  respectively  and  appropriate  to  the 
condition  of  the  nation.  Public  addresses,  as  well  as  sermons, 
were  delivered  in  every  section  of  the  United  States ;  and, 
among  other  places,  as  was  most  fit,  a  day  was  appointed  to 
commemorate  the  event  in  the  metropolis  of  Massachusetts. 
In  the  choice  of  a  speaker,  it  is  said,  there  was  not  a  dissenting 
vote.  All  eyes  turned  to  Mr.  Webster.  Mr.  Webster  was 
the  only  man,  it  was  unanimously  agreed,  that  could  adequately 
speak  for  a  whole  commonwealth,  and  entirely  meet  the  re- 
quisitions  that  the  occasion  would  lay  upon  him.  It  was  truly 
so  ;  and  the  event  justified  the  judgment.  On  the  2d  day  of 
August,  1826,  which,  as  it  also  happened,  turned  out  to  be  the  an- 
niversary of  the  day  when  the  declaration  of  independence  had 
been  engrossed  by  the  revolutionary  congress,  Mr.  Webster 
delivered  that  address  on  the  death  of  Adams  and  Jefferson, 
which,  in  its  peculiar  strain,  as  a  funeral  oration,  was  never 
surpassed  by  any  orator  of  Grecian  or  Roman  fame.  It  would 
be  idle  to  quote  from  it,  in  proof  of  this  opinion,  as  it  has  been 
committed  to  memory,  almost  entire,  by  two  generations  of 
American  youth,  and  been  read  and  admired  by  every  civil 
ized  people  of  the  globe. 


TRANSFERRED  TO  THE  SENATE.  249 

During  the  session  of  the  congressional  year  1820-1827, 
there  was  no  subject  before  the  house,  on  which  Mr.  Webster 
felt  himself  called  upon  to  make  an  elaborate  speech,  after  he 
had  given  his  opinion  of  the  mission  to  Panama ;  and  in  the 
month  of  June  of  the  year  1827,  he  was  transferred  to  the 
senate  of  the  United  States  by  a  very  large  majority  of  the 
votes  of  the  legislature  of  Massachusetts.  Taking  his  seat, 
therefore,  as  a  senator  of"  the  twentieth  congress,  for  the  state 
of  Massachusetts,  with  all  his  honors  as  an  orator  and  states- 
man upon  him,  and  with  the  respect  and  even  deference  of  a 
whole  senate  around  him,  he  could  not  fail  $o  take  a  high  rank 
in  congress  and  before  the  country  ;  and  his  talents,  now  uni- 
versally conceded  to  be  of  the  first  order,  and  his  fame,  which 
covered  the  whole  country,  and  passed  over  into  foreign  coun 
tries,  marked  and  stamped  every  word  uttered  by  him  with 
importance.  What  he  would  first  do,  on  entering  the  senate, 
became  a  query  in  the  country  ;  it  was  a  query  which  was  cir- 
culated not  a  little  in  the  newspapers  of  that  day ;  but  Mr. 
Webster  never  seemed  to  read,  certainly  not  to  regard,  what 
was  said  about  him,  or  predicted  of  him,  in  the  public  prints. 
His  own  line  of  duty  was  always  clear  before  him  ;  and  he  al- 
ways followed  that  line,  turning  neither  to  the  right  nor  left  to 
satisfy  any  one's  taste  or  fulfill  any  one's  predictions. 

His  first  speech  before  the  senate,  of  sufficient  importance  to 
receive  the  honors  of  a  publication,  was  on  the  bill  introduced 
for  the  relief  of  the  surviving  officers  of  the  revolution.  On 
this  bill  Mr.  Webster  made  a  short  address,  which,  though  to 
be  numbered  among  his  minor  speeches,  is  yet  a  model  of  its 
kind,  the  occasion  being  taken  into  consideration.  A  passage 
may  be  quoted  from  it  to  show  the  singular  felicity  with  which 
he  could  openly  discuss,  in  a  most  delicate  manner,  such  ques- 
tions as  could  hardly  be  mentioned  by  a  less  skillful  tongue 
without  exciting  the  prejudices  or  wounding  the  feelings  of  sen- 
sitive individuals  :  "  h  must  be  admitted,  sir,"  says  the  sena- 


250  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

tor,  "  that  the  persons  for  whose  benefit  this  bill  is  designed 
are,  in  some  respects,  peculiarly  unfortunate.  They  are  com- 
pelled to  meet  not  only  objections  to  the  principle,  but,  which- 
ever way  they  turn  themselves,  embarrassing  objections  also 
to  details.  One  friend  hesitates  at^this  provision,  and  another 
at  that ;  while  those  who  are  not  friends  at  all  of  course  oppose 
everything,  and  propose  nothing.  When  it  was  contemplated, 
heretofore,  to  give  the  petitioners  a  sum  outright  in  satisfaction 
of  their  claim,  then  the  argument  was,  among  other  things,  that 
the  treasury  could  not  bear  so  heavy  a  draft  on  its  means  at 
the  present  moment.  The  plan  is  accordingly  changed  ;  an 
annuity  is  proposed  ;  and  then  the  objection  changes  also.  It 
is  now  said,  that  this  is  but  granting  pensions,  and  that  the 
pension  system  had  already  been  carried  too  far.  I  confess,  sir, 
I  felt  wounded,  deeply  hurt,  at  the  observations  of  the  gentle- 
man from  Georgia.  'So,  then,'  said  he,  'these  modest  and 
high-minded  gentlemen  take  a  pension  at  last!'  How  is  it 
possible  that  a  gentleman  of  his  generosity  of  character,  and 
general  kindness  of  feeling,  can  indulge  in  such  a  tone  of  tri- 
umphant irony  towards  a  few  old,  gray-headed,  poor,  and  bro- 
ken warriors  of  the  revolution  !  There  is,  I  know,  something 
repulsive  and  opprobrious  in  the  name  of  pension.  But  God 
forbid  that  I  should  taunt  them  with  it !  With  grief,  heart-felt 
grief,  do  I  behold  the  necessity  which  leads  these  veterans  to 
accept  the  bounty  of  their  country,  in  a  manner  not  the  most 
agreeable  to  their  feelings.  Worn  out  and  decrepit,  repre- 
sented before  us  by  those,  their  former  brothers  in  arms,  who 
totter  along  our  lobbies,  or  stand  leaning  on  their  crutches,  I, 
for  one,  would  most  gladly  support  such  a  measure  as  should 
consult  at  once  their  services,  their  years,  their  necessities, 
and  the  delicacy  of  their  sentiments.  I  would  gladly  give, 
with  prompitude  and  grace,  with  gratitude  and  delicacy,  that 
which  merit  has  earned  and  necessity  demands."  Treating  of 
the  objections  urged  against,  the  bill,  the  senator  proceeds  :  "  It 


FIRST    SPEECH    IN    THE    SENATE.  251 

is  objected  that  the  militia  have  a  claim  upon  us ;  that  they 
fought  at  the  side  of  the  regular  soldiers,  and  ought  to  share  in 
the  country's  remembrance.  But  it  is  known  to  be  impossible 
to  carry  the  measure  to  such  an  extent  as  to  embrace  the  mili- 
tia ;  and  it  is  plain,  too,  that  the  cases  are  different.  The  bill, 
as  I  have  already  said,  confines  itself  to  those  who  served  not 
occasionally,  not  temporarily,  but  permanently  ;  who  allowed 
themselves  to  be  counted  on  as  men  who  were  to  see  the  con- 
test through,  last  as  long  as  it  might ;  and  who  have  made  the 
phrase,  'listing  during  the  war,'  a  proverbial  expression,  signi- 
fying unalterable  devotion  to  our  cause,  through  good  fortune 
and  ill  fortune,  till  it  reached  its  close.  This  is  a  plain  distinc- 
tion ;  and  although,  perhaps,  I  might  wish  to  do  more,  I  see 
good  ground  to  stop  here  for  the  present,  if  we  must  stop  any 
where.  The  militia  who  fought  at  Concord,  at  Lexington,  and 
at  Bunker  Hill,  have  been  alluded  to,  in  the  course  of  this  de- 
bate, in  terms  of  well-deserved  praise.  Be  assured,  sir,  there 
could  with  difficulty  be  found  a  man,  who  drew  his  sword,  01 
carried  his  musket,  at  Concord,  at  Lexington,  or  at  Bunkei 
Hill,  who  would  wish  you  to  reject  this  bill.  They  might  ask 
you  to  do  more,  but  never  to  refrain  from  doing  this.  Would 
to  God  they  were  assembled  here,  and  had  the  fate  of  the  bill 
in  their  own  hands !  Would  to  God  the  question  of  its  passage 
were  to  be  put  to  them  !  They  would  affirm  it  with  a  unity 
of  acclamation  that  would  rend  the  roof  of  the  capitol !" 

Such  was  Mr.  Webster's  happy  tact  of  handling  delicate  sub- 
ji •(•!<,  of  answering  objections  that  required  discriminate  lan- 
guage, and  of  turning  the  morale,  the  popular  sentiment,  of  an 
objection  against  those  who  raised  it.  In  the  same  speech  he 
shows  his  ardent  love  for  New  England,  and  gives  another  ex- 
ample of  his  felicity  in  turning  the  argument  of  an  adversary  to 
his  own  purposes  and  advantage,  making  it  decorous  for  him 
self  to  pay  a  useful  compliment  where,  otherwise,  all  compli- 
ment would  have  been  uncalled  for  and  suspected.  "I  would 
VOL.  r.  K* 


252  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECEb. 

not,"  he  says,  "  and  do  not,  underrate  the  services  and  the  suf- 
ferings of  others.  I  know  well,  that,  in  the  revolutionary  con- 
test, all  made  sacrifices,  and  all  endured  sufferings,  as  well 
those  who  paid  for  service,  as  those  who  performed  it.  I 
know  that,  in  the  records  of  all  the  little  municipalities  of  New 
England,  abundant  proof  exists  of  the  zeal  with  which  the  cause 
was  espoused,  and  the  sacrifices  with  which  it  was  cheerfully 
maintained.  I  have  often  there  read,  with  absolute  astonish- 
ment, of  the  taxes,  the  contributions,  the  heavy  subscriptions, 
sometimes  provided  for  by  disposing  of  the  absolute  necessaries 
of  life,  by  which  enlistments  were  procured,  and  food  and 
clothing  furnished.  It  would  be,  sir,  to  these  same  municipali- 
ties, to  these  same  little  patriotic  councils  of  revolutionary 
times,  that  I  would  now  look,  with  most  assured  confidence, 
for  a  hearty  support  of  what  this  bill  proposes.  There,  the 
scale  of  revolutionary  merit  stands  high.  There  are  still  those 
living,  who  speak  of  the  19th  of  April,  and  the  17th  of  June, 
without  thinking  it  necessary  to  add  the.  year.  These  men, 
one  and  all,  would  rejoice  to  find  that  those  who  stood  by  the 
country  bravely,  through  the  doubtful  and  perilous  struggle, 
which  conducted  to  independence  and  glory,  had  not  been  for- 
gotten in  the  decline  and  close  of  life  ! "  The  whole  speech, 
indeed,  though  not  on  an  emergency  which  called  for  the  great- 
est effort,  is  a  fine  proof  of  Mr.  Webster's  calmness,  candor,  and 
unexampled  tact  and  ingenuity  in  debate.  He  always  seemed 
to  know  and  feel  exactly  what  the  subject  demanded  of  him  ; 
and  he  also  knew  how,  in  a  most  natural  and  dignified  man- 
ner, after  answering  such  arguments  as  needed  only  to  be  an- 
swered, to  turn  the  others  into  an  occasion  to  say  just  such 
things  as  he  wanted  to  say,  but  could  not  have  said  with 
dignity,  had  not  his  unskillful  opponents  furnished  him  with  the 
opportunity.  His  whole  career,  as  a  lawyer,  as  a  representa- 
tive, as  a  senator,  is  full  of  these  examples;  but  the  great  ex 


ELECTION    OF    GENERAL    JACKSON.  253 

ample  of  his  life  comes  next  up,  in  chronological  otder,  for  the 
consideration  and  admiration  of  the  reader. 

The  interval  between  the  two  sessions  of  the  twentieth  con- 
gress is  memorable  for  the  election  of  Andrew  Jackson  over 
his  competitor,  John  Quiney  Adams.  The  party,  made  up  of 
the  discordant  elements  before  mentioned,  which  had  united  to 
break  down  the  administration  of  Mr.  Adams,  had  succeeded 
in  its  purpose.  The  slander  on  Mr.  Adams,  in  relation  to  his 
bargain  with  Mr.  Clay,  had  been  so  industriously  repeated,  that 
the  majority  of  the  people  of  the  country  had  come  to  put  implicit 
confidence  in  its  truth;  and  even  at  this  day,  there  are  thousands 
of  well-meaning  men  in  the  United  States,  men  of  the  greatest 
worth  and  integrity,  who  could  scarcely  be  more  insulted,  or  at 
least  affronted,  than  by  the  suggestion  of  a  doubt  on  this  subject. 
To  all  practical  intents,  therefore,  the  slander  was  just  as  effect- 
ual as  if  it  had  been  historically  and  undeniably  a  fact ;  and,  as 
it  spread  among  the  people,  Jackson's  popularity  rose,  and  that 
of  the  president  went  down.  Jackson  was  made  president  by 
a  majority  unknown  since  the  d^iys  of  Monroe.  Webster,  who 
wa-s  the  cause  of  the  vote  of  Clay's  friends  being  given  to  Mr. 
Adams,  and  Clay,  who  had  probably  only  acquiesced  in  the 
course  of  Mr.  Webster,  had  both  labored  to  sustain  the  admin- 
istration of  their  common  friend ;  but  no  support,  however 
able,  or  from  men  however  distinguished,  could  sustain  a  man, 
who  had  been  doomed  before  he  had  done  either  good  or 
evil. 

The  party  of  the  new  administration,  therefore,  was  merely 
an  opposition ;  and  an  opposition  is  very  likely  to  be  made  of 
dissimilar  and  discordant  materials.  This  is  more  liable  to  be 
the  case  when  the  opposition  is  based  on  personal  and  malicious 
grounds.  There  is  then  not  likely  to  be  much  principle  at 
stake.  It  is  mere  hatred,  resentment,  or  revenge.  Whatever 
was  the  animus  of  the  opposition  party  now  in  power,  it  is  very 
certain  that  the  party  itself  was  not  at  all  united.  Jackson 


254  WEBSTER  AND  HIS  MASTER -PIECES. 

and  Crawford  had  not  been  friends.  Crawford  and  Calhonn 
had  not  been  friends ;  and  Calhonn,  though  now  vice-president 
under  Jackson,  had  avowed  opinions,  and  was  then  secretly 
fostering  a  spirit,  which  was  not  only  leading  directly  to  a  sev- 
erance of  the  Union,  but  which  was  exceedingly  distasteful  to 
the  president. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  tariff  of  1810  was  a  measure 
of  the  southern  and  western  states,  which  forced  it  upon  New 
England  in  spite  of  a  determined  and  protracted  opposition,  in 
which  Mr.  Webster  had  taken  a  prominent  part.  The  tariff 
of  1824,  also,  had  been  opposed  by  the  New  England  states, 
but  was  carried  at  last  by  southern  and  western  votes.  The 
tariff  of  1828  had  been  accepted  by  Mr.  Webster,  but  it  had 
been  so  accepted,  not  because  a  high  protection  had  been  the 
original  policy  of  New  England,  but  because  it  had  been  made 
the  policy  of  the  government.  The  high  tariff  system,  in  fact, 
from  first  to  last,  had  been  a  western"  and  southern  affair,  and 
had  been  incorporated  as  an  element  of  the  general  policy  of 
the  country  by -southern  and  western  votes.  In  1828,  how- 
ever, New  England  had  acquiesced  in  this  southern  and  western 
measure,  while  the  south  and  west  themselves  had  grown  a  little 
cool  or  indifferent  towards  it.  They  had  initiated  and  carried 
it,  and  had  thus  caused  an  untold  amount  of  investments  to  be 
made  in  various  manufacturing  establishments,  chiefly  located 
in  New  England ;  and  now  they  began  to  turn  round  upon 
their  own  act,  not  only  dishonoring  and  rejecting  it,  but  accu- 
sing it  of  being  unfriendly,  even  hostile,  to  the  interests  of  the 
west  and  south.  There  was  probably  some  disappointment, 
and  some  jealousy,  mixed  up  with  this  change  of  opinion  and 
practice.  When  originated,  New  England  was  engaged  al- 
most exclusively  in  navigation ;  and  the  tariff,  it  was  supposed, 
by  throwing  restrictions  on  free  trade,  would  benefit  the  agri- 
culture of  the  west  and  south,  though  it  might  also  diminish 
the  business  of  the  east.  The  result  of  the  measure  had  not 


THE  TARIFF  AND  NEW  ENGLAND.  255 

entirely  i*iet  the  expectation  of  its  originators.  New  England, 
having  more  ready  capital  than  could  be  employed  to  the  best 
advantage  in  a  commerce  thus  restrained,  had  diverted  the  sur- 
plus of  this  capital  to  those  manufactures,  which  had  been  par- 
ticularly marked  out  for  protection  by  these  southern  and  west- 
ern tariffs.  Make  the  laws  as  they  would,  fix  whatever  boun- 
daries to  business  that  any  sections  of  the  Union  might  devise, 
New  England  had  known  how  to  thrive.  She  could  not 
thrive,  however,  any  more  than  any  other  section,  if  the  laws 
were  not  kept  more  or  less  uniform  and  firm,  if  they  were  to 
be  changed  with  every  congress,  or  every  new  notion  that 
might  possibly  get  the  ascendency  for  a  day.  Having,  there- 
fore, been  forced  into  the  business  of  manufactures,  and  having 
Involved  a  large  amount  of  property  in  it,  New  England  was 
now  willing  to  relinquish  her  opposition  to  the  doctrine  of  pro- 
tection, and  to  stand  up  in  support  of  the  darling  measure  of 
the  south  and  west.  She  expected,  no  doubt,  that  the  south 
and  west  would  congratulate  her  upon  her  conversion,  and  pro- 
nounce themselves  fortunate  in  having  made  so  good  a  con- 
vert. Not  so.  The  south  and  west  had  now  changed  sides. 
They  opened  up  a  determined  opposition  to  their  own  measure. 
They  used,  in  that  opposition,  the  very  arguments  which  they 
had  tried  to  answer  when  given  to  them  from  the  lips  of  Mr. 
Webster.  This  change  of  sentiment  had  commenced  as  early 
as  1828,  when  the  tariff  bill  of  that  year,  which  was  rather  fa- 
vorable to  New  England,  was  under  discussion  in  the  senate. 
It  was  a  change  so  sudden  and  so  marked  that  Mr.  Webster 
had  not  seen  fit  to  let  it  pass  without  observation  :  "  New 
England,  sir,"  said  he,  in  his  speech  of  the  9th  of  May,  1828, 
"  has  not  been  a  leader  in  this  policy.  On  the  contrary,  she 
held  back  herself  and  tried  to  hold  others  back  from  it,  from 
the  adoption  of  the  constitution  to  1824.  Up  to  1824,  she  was 
accused  of  sinister  and  selfish  designs,  because  she  discounte- 
nanced the  progress  of  this  policy.  It  was  laid  to  IILT  charge 


256  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

then,  that,  having  established  her  manufactures  herself,  she 
wished  that  others  should  not  have  the  power  of  rivaling  her, 
and  for  that  reason  opposed  all  legislative  encouragement. 
Under  this  angry  denunciation  against  her,  the  act  of  1824 
passed.  Now,  the  imputation  is  precisely  of  an  opposite  char- 
acter. The  present  measure  is  pronounced  to  be  exclusively 
for  the  benefit  of  New  England  ;  to  be  brought  forward  by  her 
agency,  and  designed  to  gratify  the  cupidity  of  the  proprietors 
of  her  wealthy  establishments.  Both  charges,  sir,  are  equally 
without  the  slightest  foundation.  The  opinion  of  New  England 
up  to  1824  was  founded  in  the  conviction  that,  on  the  whole,  it 
was  wisest  and  best,  both  for  herself  and  others,  that  manufac- 
tures should  make  haste  slowly.  She  felt  a  reluctance  to  trust 
great  interests  on  the  foundation  of  government  patronage  ;  for 
who  could  tell  how  long  such  patronage  would  last,  or  with 
what  steadiness,  skill,  or  perseverance  it  would  continue  to  b.>, 
granted  ?  It  is  now  nearly  fifteen  years  since,  among  the  first 
things  which  I  ever  ventured  to  say  here,  I  expressed  a  serious 
doubt  whether  this  government  was  fitted,  by  its  construction, 
to  administer  aid  and  protection  to  particular  pursuits;  whether, 
having  called  such  pursuits  into  being  by  indications  of  its  favor, 
it  would  not  afterwards  desert  them,  should  troubles  come  upon 
them,  and  leave  them  to  their  fate.  Whether  this  prediction, 
the  result,  certainly,  of  chance,  and  not  of  sagacity,  is  about  to 
be  fulfilled,  remains  to  be  seen." 

In  the  same  speech  Mr.  Webster  states  the  grounds  on  which 
New  England  had  been  compelled  to  change  her  policy  ;  and, 
as  it  is  as  clear  a  defense  of  his  own  course  as  can  be  given,  or 
need  to  be  given,  a  further  extract  is  appropriate  to  the  narra- 
tive of  his  life  :  "  At  the  same  time  it  is  true,"  says  he,  in 
continuation  of  his  remarks,  "  that,  from  the  very  first  com- 
mencement of  the  government,  those  who  have  administered 
its  concerns  have  held  a  tone  of  encouragement  and  invitation 
towards  those  who  should  embark  in  manufactures.  A1J  the 


PROTECTIVE    POLICY.  257 

presidents,  I  l<elieve  without  exception,  have  concuired  in  this 
general  sentiment ;  and  the  very  first  act  of  congress  laying 
duties  on  imports  adopted  the  unusual  expedient  of  a  preamble, 
apparently  for  little  other  purpose  than  that  of  declaring  that 
the  duties  which  it  imposed  were  laid  for  the  encouragement 
and  protection  of  manufactures.  When,  at  the  commencement 
of  the  late  war,  duties  were  doubled,  we  were  told  that  we 
should  find  a -mitigation  of  the  weight  of  taxation  in  the  new 
aid  and  succor  which  would  be  thus  afforded  to  our  own  man 
ufacturing  labor.  Like  arguments  were  urged,  and  prevailed, 
but  not  by  the  aid  of  New  England  votes,  when  the  tariff  was 
afterwards  arranged,  at  the  close  of  the  war  in  1816.  Finally, 
after  a  whole  winter's  deliberation,  the  act  of  1824  received  the 
sanction  of  both  houses  of  congress,  and  settled  the  policy  of 
the  country.  What,  then,  was  New  England  to  do  ?  She 
was  fitted  for  manufacturing  operations,  by  the  amount  and 
character  of  her  population,  by  her  capital,  by  the  vigor  and 
energy  of  her  free  labor,  by  the  skill,  economy,  enterprise,  and 
perseverance  of  her  people.  I  repeat,  what  was  she,  under 
those  circumstances,  to  do  1  A  great  and  prosperous  rival  in 
her  near  neighborhood,  threatening  to  draw  from  her  a  part, 
perhaps  a  great  part,  of  her  foreign  commerce  ;  was  she  to  use, 
or  to  neglect,  those  other  means  of  seeking  her  own  prosperity 
which  belonged  to  her  character  and  condition  ?  Was  she  to 
hold  out  forever  against  the  course  of  the  government,  and  see 
herself  losing  on  one  side,  and  yet  make  no  effort  to  sustain 
herself  on  the  other  ]  No,  sir.  Nothing  was  left  to  New  En- 
gland, after  the  act  of  1824,  but  to  conform  herself  to  the  will 
of  others.  Nothing  was  left  to  her,  but  to  consider  that  the 
government  had  fixed  and  determined  her  own  policy ;  and 
that  policy  was  protection." 

This  protection,  however,  had  become,  as  has  been  seen,  and 
ibi  the  reason  that  has  been  assigned,  distasteful  to  the  south 
and  west,  but  particularly  to  the  south.  The  south  could  not 


258  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

get  quite  enough  of  the  votes  of  the  west,  and  of  the  middle 
states,  to  carry  out  her  unparental  zeal  in  the  destruction  of  her 
own  offspring.  Protection  had  been  settled  as  the  policy  of 
the  government;  and  the  tariff  of  1828  had  passed,  not  only 
without  the  help  of  the  south,  but  in  spite  of  it.  Upon  this,  the 
greater  part  of  the  southern  states,  and  all  the  western,  had 
honorably  submitted  to  a  vote  of  congress,  and  to  the  laws 
established  according  to  the  forms  and  requisitions  of  the  con- 
stitution. South  Carolina,  however,  had  chosen  to  constitute 
an  exception  to  this  general  fact.  South  Carolina,  led  by  Mr. 
Calhoun,  the  vice-president  under  General  Jackson,  finding  it 
impossible  to  break  down  the  tariff  by  the  only  mode  of  legis- 
lating recognized  or  provided  for  in  the  constitution,  had  token 
it  upon  herself  to  seek  out  another  mode,  which  the  constitu- 
tion virtually,  constructively,  and  actually  everywhere  forbids. 
She  had  set  up  the  doctrine  of  state-rights.  She  had  declared, 
that,  whenever  laws  should  be  passed  distasteful  to  a  state,  that 
state  had  the  right,  in  spite  of  congress,  in  spite  of  its  laws,  in 
spite  of  everything,  to  declare  such  legislation  null  and  void 
within  her  own  territorial  limits.  Not  only  had  this  strange, 
this  novel,  this  dangerous  doctrine  been  put  forth  in  theory,  in 
speculation,  in  the  heat  and  excitement  of  debate,  but  there  was 
then  a  small  but  vigorous  party  in  the  senate,  and  in  the  house, 
which  acknowledged  the  vice-president  himself  as  its  chief,  with 
such  gentlemen  as  Me  Duffie  and  Hayne  as  parliamentary  lead- 
ers, which  threatened,  provided  the  tariff  policy  was  not  re- 
pealed, to  put  the  theory  into  immediate  practice,  cost  what  it 
might. 

Such  was  the  position  of  affairs  when  Andrew  Jackson  took 
his  pi  ace  as  president  of  the  United  States.  Such  was  the  posi- 
tion at  the  opening  of  the  first  session  of  the  twenty-first  congress. 
The  era  of  bitter  feeling  had  grown  more  and  more  bitter.  The 
doctrine  of  disunion  had  begun  to  be  secretly  discussed.  So 
combustible  were  the  elements  of  congress,  and  of  the  party 


FOOTE'S  RESOLUTION.  259 

that  supported  the  administration,  and,  in  fact,  of  the  adminis- 
tration itself,  that  only  a  spark  was  needed  to  blow  up  a  confla- 
gration. That  spark,  unconsciously,  accidentally,  and  inno- 
cently, was  soon  struck. 

On  the  29th  of  December,  1829,  a  resolution  was  moved 
by  Mr.  Foote,  a  senator  from  Connecticut,  in  the  following  lan- 
guage :  "  Resolved,  That  the  committee  on  public  lands  be 
instructed  to  inquire  and  report  the  quantity  of  public  lands 
remaining  unsold  within  each  state  and  territory.  And  whether 
it  be  expedient  to  limit  for  a  certain  period  the  sales  of  the 
public  lands  to  .such  lands  only  as  have  heretofore  been  offered 
for  sale  and  are  now  subject  to  entry  at  the  minimum  price. 
And,  also,  whether  the  office  of  surveyor-general,  and  some 
of  the  land-offices,  may  not  be  abolished  without  detriment  to 
the  public  interest."  To  this  resolution,  as  here  stated,  an 
amendment  was  subsequently  added  by  the  motion  of  a  sena- 
tor from  Maine,  Mr.  Sprague,  in  the  following  words  :  "  Or 
whether  it  be  expedient  to  adopt  measures  to  hasten  the  sales 
and  extend  more  rapidly  the  surveys  of  the  public  lands." 

Such  a  resolution,  certainly,  a  resolution  of  mere  inquiry, 
was  innocent  enough,  and  could  not,  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, and  in  an  ordinary  state  of  public  feeling,  have  pro- 
duced the  protracted  and  celebrated  debate  which  ensued.  As 
the  state  of  feeling  was,  in  fact,  it  required  no  little  tact,  on  the 
part  of  the  disunion  members  of  congress,  to  make  the  resolu- 
tion the  means,  or  the  parliamentary  support,  of  the  wide  and 
rambling  discussion  of  the  general  and  sectional  bearings  of  al- 
most every  measure  of  the  government  since  the  adoption  of 
the  constitution.  Mr.  Calhoun,  however,  who  was  the  source 
and  center  of  the  new  doctrines,  was  in  the  chair ;  and  it  was 
very  much  at  his  option  to  protract  or  limit  the  debate.  He 
sat  there,  in  the  vice-presidential  chair,  secretly  enjoying  its 
progress,  because  he  heard,  almost  every  day  for  weeks,  from 
the  lips  of  his  confederates,  the  advocacy  of  a  doctrine  to  which 


260  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

he  looked  with  a  fond  and  paternal  care.  From  the  29th  of 
December  tc  the  middle  of  the  next  month,  the  Great  Debate, 
as  the  newspapers  began  to  style  it,  like  the  broken-backed 
serpent  of  the  poet,  dragged  its  slow  length  along.  It  was  soon 
destined  to  fall  into  hands  capable  of  elevating  it  from  the 
lowest  depths  of  party  strife  to  the  height  of  a  world-wide 
renown. 

That  renown  makes  it  important  to  set  down,  with  more 
than  usual  minuteness,  the  chronological  order  of  the  entire  de- 
bate. The  original  resolution,  as  has  been  stated,  was  offered 
by  Mr.  Foote  on  the  29th  of  December,  1829.  Mr.  Foote, 
in  presenting  it,  made  a  very  brief  explanation  of  his  object, 
which  was,  as  he  said,  merely  to  elicit  facts  in  regard  to  our 
public  lands.  Mr.  Foote  was  answered  by  Mr.  Benton,  sena- 
tor from  Missouri,  in  his  boldest  and  somewhat  intemperate 
manner.  He  declared  it  to  be  a  resolution  of  inquiry,  not  in 
regard  to  the  public  lands  exactly,  but  how  New  England  could 
perpetrate  a  long-meditated  wrong  upon  the  interests  of  the 
west.  This  intention  was  disavowed  at  once,  not  only  by  Mr. 
Foote  himself,  but  by  several  eastern  members,  who  addressed 
the  senate  briefly  on  the  day  after  the  resolution  was  intro- 
duced. At  the  close  of  that  day's  discussion  of  the  subject,  it 
was  made  the  order  of  the  day  for  January  the  llth,  1830. 
It  was  not  taken  up,  however,  till  the  13th  of  January,  when 
several  western  members  spoke  vehemently  and  very  discur- 
sively against  the  resolution.  It  was  then  laid  over  to  the 
18th,  on  which  day  Mr.  Benton  again  took  the  floor  and  spoke 
at  great  length,  violently  resisting  the  inquiry,  and  closing  up 
with  a  set  and  deliberate  attack  on  New  England  and  her  pol 
icy.  He  accused  her  of  having  always  been  unfriendly  to  the 
west.  He  declared  that  the  west  had  grown  only  because  she 
could  prosper  in  spue  of  the  opposition  of  New  England  ;  and 
ic  used  language,  and  declared  sentiments,  which,  to  say  the 
east,  had  perhaps  never  been  paralleled,  up  to  that  period,  in 


HAYNE    AS    AN    ORATOR. 

either  the  senate  or  the  house.  On  the  day  following,  Jai.u- 
ary  the  19th,  several  eastern  senators,  and  among  them  Mr. 
Holmes,  of  Maine,  again  disclaimed  all  intention  of  wronging 
the  west,  and  defended  New  England  from  all  imputation  of 
the  kind.  When  Mr.  Holmes  sat  down,  Mr.  Hayne,  of  South 
Carolina,  the  rising  favorite  of  his  state  and  the  champion  of 
Mr.  Calhoun  in  the  senate,  took  the  floor. 

Mr.  Hayne  was  one  of  the  youngest  members  of  the  senate. 
A  spare  but  rather  comely  man,  he  possessed  no  small  spright- 
liness  of  talents,  and  a  great  readiness  of  speech.  He  had  been 
of  a  very  precocious  character  from  his  youth.  Having  risen 
to  respectability  as  a  speaker  before  he  had  become  a  man, 
immediately  upon  his  reaching  manhood  and  coming  into  pub- 
lic life,  his  oratory  had  given  him  position,  emolument,  and 
fame.  As  an  orator,  he  was  rapid,  fiery,  and  of  such  remarka- 
ble quickness  and  facility  of  speech,  that  he  seemed  to  run  all 
round  a  slower  adversary  before  he  had  time  to  think.  By 
the  time  an  opponent  could  get  himself  to  understand  what  had 
been  last  said,  and  began  to  see  through  the  force  of  it,  the 
sprigthly  genius  would  be  off,  quick  as  light,  on  some  other  topic, 
pouring  out  a  volley  of  words,  of  figures,  of  rhetoric  all  ablaze, 
which  seemed  to  stun  and  blind  whom  it  did  not  convince. 
Such  was  his  rapidity  of  utterance,  that,  when  most  excited,  he 
appeared  to  stand  in  the  centre  of  a  halo  of  brilliant  speech,  al- 
most transfigured,  with  eye,  lip,  hands,  feet,  all  on  fire  with  a 
sort  of  iivinulous  animation.  In  this  peculiar  way,  he  was 
very  eloquent.  Or  rather,  he  was  an  astonishment.  He  was 
less  remarkable  for  what  he  said,  than  for  his  way  of  saying  it. 
Though  not  very  able  in  point  of  argument,  he  was  not  desti- 
tute of  logic.  Sometimes  he  would  throw  out  a  thought,  quick 
and  unexpected,  that  hit  a  listener  like  a  bullet.  Withal,  he 
was  graceful,  anj,  in  general,  courteous,  though  occasionally, 
when  most  rapt,  he  would  utter  language  which  could  not  be 
regarded  as  entirely  decorous.  When  his  passions  were  clU 


2fi2  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

turbed,  he  -would  become  even  personal,  and  violent,  and  offen- 
sive ;  and  the  facility  and  rapidity  of  his  utterance,  which  he 
and  his  friends  took  for  power  of  speech,  and  in  which,  it  was 
quite  evident,  he  had  a  secret  confidence,  pushed  him  not  in- 
frequently beyond  his  better  judgment,  and  made  him  arrogant 
and  supercilious. 

The  speech  of  Mr.  Hayne,  in  which  he  made  a  sensible  im- 
pression on  the  lobbies,  though  but  little  on  the  senate,  closed 
the  discussion  for  that  day.  On  the  next  day,  January  the 
20th,  Mr.  Webster  made  his  fu-st  reply  to  this  prodigy  and 
champion  of  the  south.  Until  Hayne  had  spoken,  Mr.  Web- 
ster had  kept  his  seat,  and  had  given  no  signs  of  his  intending 
to  address  the  senate  on  the  resolution.  He  was,  in  fact,  at 
that  very  time,  daily  and  assiduously  engaged  in  the  supreme 
court,  in  the  case  of  Carver's  Lessees  against  John  Jacob  Astor, 
a  cause  which  demanded  his  attention  and  occupied  his  thoughts. 
The  speech  of  Mr.  Hayne,  however,  brought  the  new  doctrine 
of  South  Carolina  so  fully  out,  and  made  so  bold  and  vigorous 
an  attack  on  the  New  England  States,  that  he  could  no  longer, 
in  duty  to  himself  or  to  his  constituents,  keep  his  seat  His 
speech  was  a  very  calm  argument,  expressed  in  very  moderate 
language,  and  delivered  in  a  most  conciliatory  style,  directly  touch- 
ing the  resolution  before  the  senate.  After  a  brief  introduction, 
giving  the  reasons  for  his  speaking  on  the  question,  and  ex- 
plaining the  question  itself,  he  went  on,  in  the  first  place,  to  re- 
ply to  the  statements  of  Mr.  Hayne  in  relation  to  the  policy 
of  the  government  respecting  the  sale  of  the  public  lands.  He 
showed  conclusively  that  that  policy  had  always  been  liberal 
and  wise.  Then  he  proceeded  to  examine  Mr.  Hayne's  ob- 
jection to  a  fixed  revenue,  or  any  revenue,  as  it  served  the 
purposes  of  what  the  South  Carolina  senator  stigmatized  as 
consolidation  ;  but  Mr.  Webster  clearly  proved,  that  it  was 
not  consolidation,  in  the  bad  sense  in  which  this  new  school  of 
politicians  used  the  term,  but  in  the  patriotic  import  of  the 


JIRST    REPLY    TO   HAYNE.  263 

term  as  employed  by  Washington,  that  roused  the  opposition 
of  these  southern  gentlemen.  They  opposed  consolidation,  that 
is,  a  settled  general  government,  because  they  were  out  with 
that  government,  because  they  wished  to  overthrow  it,  and  be- 
cause they  intended,  if  successful,  to  erect  their  doctrine  of  state 
sovereignty,  and  state  rights,  and  state  independence,  on  the 
ruins  of  the  constitution.  Next  Mr.  Webster  advanced  to 
what  Mr.  Hayne  had  said,  in  the  most  invidious  and  offensive 
manner,  against  the  New  England  states,  because  those  states 
were  friendly  to  a  tariff;  and  he  demonstrated,  that,  whatever 
the  policy  of  protection  was,  whether  good  or  bad,  it  was  not 
originally  a  New  England  measure,  but  a  measure  adopted  by 
New  England  from  the  hands  of  southern  politicians,  the  leader 
of  whom,  Mr.  Calhoun,  was  a  South  Carolina  man.  Mr.  Hayne 
had  spoken  largely  and  loudly,  also,  against  the  doctrine  of  in- 
ternal improvements  ;  and  Mr.  Webster  next  proved,  by  testi- 
mony taken  from  the  speeches  of  southern  members  of  con- 
gress, in  fact  by  a  speech  of  Mr.  Me  Duffle,  another  South  Car- 
olina congressman,  that  the  south  had  itself  once  claimed  the 
authorship,  denying  the  honor  to  every  other  section  of  the 
Union,  of  that  very  system  of  internal  improvements,  whieh 
Mr.  Hayne,  with  characteristic  levity,  now  abandoned  and 
abused.  In  all  these  respects,  and  at  every  period  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  government,  Mr.  Webster  showed,  that  New  En- 
gland had  pursued  a  liberal  policy  toward  the  western  states, 
and  a  magnanimous  and  conservative  course  toward  the  south. 
As  a  general  example  of  the  effect  of  this  generous  course,  he 
drew  a  picture  of  Ohio  as  she  was  about  the  time  when  the 
policy  of  the  government,  by  the  votes  of  New  England,  was 
established,  and  of  Ohio  as  she  had  become,  which  has  been 
everywhere  and  ever  since  admired  :  "And  here,  sir,  at  the 
epoch  of  1794,"  said  the  senator,  "  let  us  pause  and  survey  the 
scene,  as  it  actually  existed  thirty-five  years  ago.  Let  us  look 
back  and  behold  it.  Over  all  that  is  now  Ohio  there  then 


204  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

stretched  one  vast  wilderness,  unbroken  except  by  two  small 
spots  of  civilized  culture,  the  one  at  Marietta,  and  the  other  at 
Cincinnati.  At  these  little  openings,  hardly  each  a  pin's  point 
upon  the  map,  the  arm  of  the  frontier- man  had  leveled  the  for- 
est and  let  in  the  sun.  These  little  patches  of  earth,  themselves 
almost  overshadowed  by  the  boughs  of  that  wilderness,  which 
had  stood  and  perpetuated  itself,  from  century  to  century,  ever 
since  the  creation,  were  all  that  had  then  been  rendered  ver 
dant  by  the  hand  of  man.  In  an  extent  of  hundreds  and  thou- 
sands of  square  miles,  no  other  surface  of  smiling  green  at- 
tested the  presence  of  civilization.  The  hunter's  path  crossed 
mighty  rivers,  flowing  in  solitary  grandeur,  whose  sources  lay 
in  remote  and  unknown  regions  of  the  wilderness.  It  struck 
upon  the  north  on  a  vast  inland  sea,  over  which  the  wintry 
tempests  raged  as  on  the  ocean  ;  all  around  was  bare  creation. 
It  was  fresh,  untouched,  unbounded,  magnificent  wilderness. 
And,  sir,  what  is  it  now  1  Is  it  imagination  only,  or  can  it 
possibly  be  fact,  that  presents  such  a  change  as  surprises  and 
astonishes  us,  when  we  turn  our  eyes  to  what  Ohio  now  is  ? 
Is  it  reality,  or  a  dream,  that,  in  so  short  a  period  even  as 
thirty-five  years,  there  has  sprung  up,  on  the  same  surface,  an 
independent  state  with  a  million  of  people?  A  million  of  in- 
habitants! an  amount  of  population  greater  than  that  of  all  the 
cantons  of  Switzerland ;  equal  to  one  third  of  all  the  people  of 
the  United  States  when  they  undertook  to  accomplish  their  in- 
dependence. This  new  member  of  the  republic  has  already 
left  far  behind  her  a  majority  of  the  old  states.  She  is  now 
by  the  side  of  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania ;  and,  in  point  of 
numbers,  will  shortly  admit  no  equal  but  New  York  nerself. 
If,  sir,  we  may  judge  of  measures  by  their  results,  what  lessons 
do  these  facts  read  us  upon  the  policy  of  the  government  ? 
What  inferences  do  they  authorize  upon  the  general  question 
of  kindness  or  unkindness  1  What  convictions  do  they  enforce 
as  to  the  wisdom  and  ability,  on  the  one  hand,  or  the  folly  and 


THE    DEBATE    CONTINUED.  265 

incapacity,  on  the  other,  of  our  general  administration  }f  west- 
ern affairs  ?  Sir,  does  it  not  require  some  portion  of  self-re- 
spect in  us  to  imagine,  that,  if  our  light  had  shone  on  the  path 
of  government,  if  our  wisdom  could  have  been  consulted  in  its 
measures,  a  more  rapid  advance  to  strength  and  prosperity 
would  have  been  experienced  ]  For  my  own  part,  while  I  am 
struck  with  wonder  at  the  success,  I  also  look  with  admiration 
at  the  wisdom  and  foresight,  which  originally  arranged  and  pre- 
scribed the  system  for  the  settlement  of  the  public  domain. 
Its  operation  has  been,  without  a  moment's  interruption,  to 
push  the  settlement  of  the  western  country  to  the  extent  of  our 
utmost  means." 

Gear  and  conclusive  as  was  Mr.  Webster's  speech,  it  did  not 
terminate  the  discussion  of  the  resolution.  It  only  roused  up 
the  southern  members  to  put  forth  all  their  strength.  They 
had  achieved  something,  they  thought,  in  getting  Mr.  Webster 
to  his  feet.  It  was  their  settled  purpose,  there  is  no  doubt,  not 
only  to  attack  New  England  and  render  her  odious  in  the  eyes 
of  the  other  sections  of  the  Union,  but  particularly  to  attack 
and  demolish  Mr.  Webster,  who  had  been  ever  the  chief  reli- 
ance of  the  New  England  states.  No  sooner,  therefore,  had 
Mr.  Webster  taken  his  seat,  than  Mr.  Benton  stood  up,  ready 
to  deal  his  heaviest  blows  on  the  head  of  the  senator  from 
Massachusetts ;  and  the  remainder  of  that  day,  January  the 
20lh,  was  thus  occupied.  The  next  day,  Mr.  Webster  was 
under  obligations  to  attend  in  the  supreme  court,  where  the 
case  already  mentioned  was  to  come  on  for  argument;  and 
Mr.  Chambers,  of  Maryland,  accordingly,  with  a  becoming 
courtesy,  and  a  courtesy  always  extended  heretofore  on  similar 
emergencies,  moved  an  adjournment,  or  a  postponement  of  the 
question,  for  Mr.  Webster's  accommodation.  Mr.  Ilayne, 
however,  was  too  eager  to  be  courteous.  He  rose  and  object- 
ed to  any  postponement  of  the  discussion.  "  He  saw  the  gen- 
tleman from  Massachusetts  in  his  seit,"  he  said.  "  and  pr«v 


266  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

suined  he  could  make  an  arrangement  which  would  enable  him 
to  be  present,  here,  during  the  discusssion  to-day.  He  was  un- 
willing that  this  subject  should  be  postponed  before  he  had  an 
opportunity  of  replying  to  some  of  the  observations  which  had 
fallen  from  that  gentleman  yes-terday.  lie  would  not  deny 
that  some  things  had  fallen  from  him  which  rankled  here, 
[touching  his  breast,]  from  which  he  would  desire  at  once  to 
relieve  himself.  The  gentleman  had  discharged  his  fire  in  the 
presence  of  the  senate.  He  hoped  he  would  now  afford  him 
an  opportunity  of  returning  the  shot."  This  last  remark  was 
uttered,  it  is  said,  in  a  very  taunting  and  defiant  air ;  as  if  the 
South  Carolina  senator  felt  that  he  had  only  to  touch  the  trig- 
ger, and  his  great  antagonist  would  fall.  The  tone  of  defiance, 
however,  was  not  likely  to  intimidate  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Web- 
ster. With  a  compassionate  smile,  he  answered  from  his  seat : 
"  Let  the  discussion  proceed ;  I  am  ready,  now,  to  receive  the 
gentleman's  fire !  " 

But  it  was  not  then  Mr.  Hayne's  place  to  speak.  Mr.  Ben- 
ton  had  the  floor ;  and  he  had  delivered  only  the  exordium  of 
his  speech  on  the  day  before.  He  now  proceeded,  according 
to  his  usual  manner,  to  utter  some  sweeping  charges  against 
New  England  in  relation  to  its  bearing  in  congress  toward 
the  west,  and  sustained  his  charges  with  great  vehemence  of 
style,  by  a  few  quotations  of  irrelevant  votes,  and  by  an  hour 
or  two's  length  of  severe  denunciation,  highly  declamatory, 
but  without  his  usual  point.  Mr.  Hayne  rose  as  Mr.  Benton 
took  his  seat ;  and,  after  speaking  in  reply  to  Mr.  Webster 
longer  than  Mr.  Webster  had  himself  spoken,  he  found  him- 
self only  at  the  threshold  of  what  he  wished  to  say.  Ex- 
hausted,  and  out  of  breath,  he  reached  the  hour  of  adjourn- 
ment, when,  probably  for  his  accommodation,  the  subject  was 
p>st[  Mined  till  the  25th,  and  made  the  special  order  for  that 
day.  The  day  arrived.  The  senate  chamber  and  the  lobbies 
were  well  filled  with  spectators.  Mr.  Hayne  proceeded  w'th 


THE  DEBATE  CONTINUED.  26"? 

his  speech,  -which  consisted  of  a  defense  of  the  doctrme  of 
South  Carolina,  which  claimed  the  right,  as  a  resei  ved  state 
night,  of  nullifying  the  laws  of  the  general  government,  when- 
ever, in  her  opinion,  those  laws  were  plainly  and  palpably  un- 
constitutional. He  endeavored  to  show  that  the  doctrme  was 
not  a  new  one  ;  that  it  had  been  originally  set  up  by  Virginia  ; 
and  that,  what  was  expected  by  him,  doubtless,  to  be  a  partic- 
ular and  triumphant  overthrow  of  Mr.  Webster,  it  had  been 
maintained  by  numerous  writers,  orators,  and  even  ministers 
in  Massachusetts.  He  spoke,  this  day,  about  two  hours  and  a 
half;  and  Mr.  Webster  rose,  with  the  intention  of  making  an 
immediate  answer,  the  very  moment  when  Mr.  Hayne  took 
his  seat.  The  day,  however,  was  nearly  gone  ;  and,  as  every 
one  now  seemed  desirous  to  give  Mr.  Webster  time  to  reply 
at  length,  the  nullifiers  themselves  now  feeling,  after  Mr. 
Hayne's  great  effort,  that  they  could  afford  to  be  magnani- 
mous, and  thus  make  the  victory  and  the  defeat  more  signal, 
the  senate  immediately  adjourned. 

The  next  day  was  the  day  of  days  in  the  senate  of  the 
United  States.  It  was  the  day  never  to  be  forgotten,  as  long 
as  argument,  and  eloquence,  and  triumph,  are  words  possessed 
of  any  meaning  in  any  language  or  dialect  on  earth.  It  was 
the  day  of  the  delivery  of  the  greatest  parliamentary  speech 
ever  listened  to  on  this  continent ;  and  it  was  a  day,  which, 
for  any  similar  or  equal  effort,  will  scarcely  find  a  parallel, 
it  may  be,  for  a  hundred  generations.  Never,  till  that  day 
came,  had  the  illustrious  orator  of  New  England,  of  Amer- 
ica, of  the  nineteenth  century,  been  fully  roused.  Never 
had  he  felt  called  upon,  or  been  pushed  to  put  forth  all  his 
powers.  Until  that  day,  and  that  occasion,  no  man,  not  even 
his  best  friend  and  his  warmest  admirer,  had  known  the  full 
strength,  the  vast  sweep,  the  unrivaled  and  resistless  might  of 
his  massive,  majestic,  and  imperial  mind.  It  is  likely  that  he 
n:ul  never  been  entirely  conscious  of  his  whole  power  "limself 
VOL.  i.  L 


2(58  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECEH. 

From  the  conclusion  of  that  day,  however,  his  friends,  his  en© 
mies,  the  senate,  the  country,  and  the  world,  have  been  able  to 
understand,  with  a  nearer  approach  to  truth,  how  much  of 
every  human  faculty,  how  much  of  every  possible  endowment, 
how  much  of  every  manner  and  measure  of  attainment,  how 
much  of  every  element  that  can  enter  into  the  mental  and 
moral  constitution  of  a  man,  is  comprehended  in  the  name, 
often  used  but  seldom  fathomed,  of  Daniel  Webster. 

It  is  remarkable,  very  remarkable,  that,  of  the  hundreds 
who  listened  to  that  speech,  and  of  the  many  who  were 
entirely  capable  of  appreciating  and  describing  its  delivery  and 
effect,  so  few  should  have  taken  the  pains  to  portray  what  they 
saw,  and  felt,  and  heard.  In  fact,  while  the  world  has,  ever 
since  its  delivery,  resounded  with  its  fame,  but  two  or  three 
persons  have  ever  given  such  account  of  it,  as  could  aid  mate- 
rially the  imagination  of  other  persons,  or  satisfy  the  curiosity 
of  mankind.  One  of  those  individuals  is  Mr.  Justice  Sprague, 
at  the  time  a  senator  from  Maine,  and  the  mover  of  the  amend- 
ment to  Mr.  Foote's  resolution,  but  now  of  the  bench  of  Mas- 
sachusetts. Immediately  upon  the  death  of  Mr.  Webster,  the 
circuit  court,  sitting  in  Boston,  met  to  commemorate  the  event ; 
and  Mr.  Sprague  was  requested,  as  one  of  the' speakers  on  the 
occasion,  particularly  to  dwell  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  court, 
on  the  great  effort  now  under  consideration.  In  compliance 
with  this  request,  after  speaking  generally  of  the  unequaled  tal- 
ents and  attainments  of  Mr.  Webster,  he  proceeded  :  "  The 
present  occasion  does  not  permit  me  to  verify  these  general 
remarks  by  specific  and  detailed  references ;  nor  has  the  time 
arrived  when  his  later  efforts  can  be  dispassionately  considered. 
But  there  is  one  speech,  made  so  long  since  as  to  be  now  mat- 
ter of  history,  and  involving  no  topic  of  personal  excitement, 
of  which  1  have  been  especially  requested  to  speak,  recause  it 
is  the  more  celebrated ;  and  of  the  then  senators  from  New 
England,  I  am,  with  one  exception,  the  only  surviv  >r  j  and  it  is 


JUDGE  SPRAGUE'S  OPINION.  269 

proper  to  speak  of  it  here  and  now,  because  a  great,  vital 
question  of  constitutional  law  was,  by  that  speech,  settled  as 
completely  and  irrevocably  as  it  could  have  been  by  the  great- 
est minds  in  the  highest  judicial  tribunals. 

"  Mr.  Foote's  resolution  involved  merely  the  question  of 
limiting  or  extending  the  survey  of  the  public  lands.  Upon 
this,  Mr.  Benton  and  Mr.  Hayne  addressed  the  senate,  con- 
demning the  policy  of  the  eastern  states,  as  illiberal  toward 
the  west.  Mr.  Webster  replied,  in  vindication  of  New  Eng- 
land and  the  policy  of  the  government.  It  was  then  that  Gen- 
eral Hayne  made  the  assault  which  that  speech  repelled. 

"It  has  been  asked  if  it  be  possible  that  that  reply  was  made 
without  previous  preparation.  There  could  have  been  no  spe- 
cial preparation  before  the  speech  began  to  which  it  was  an 
answer.  When  General  Hayne  closed,  Mr.  Webster  followed, 
with  the  interval,  only,  of  the  usual  adjournment  of  one  night. 
His  reply  was  made  to  repel  an  attack,  sudden,  unexpected, 
and  almost  unexampled,  an  attack  on  Mr.  Webster  personally, 
upon  Massachusetts  and  New  England,  and  upon  the  constitu- 
tion. 

"There  can  be  little  doubt  that  this  attack  was  the  re- 
sult of  premeditation,  concert  and  arrangement.  His  assailant 
selected  his  own  time,  and  that,  too,  peculiarly  inconvenient  to 
Mr.  Webster,  for  at  that  moment,  the  supreme  court  were 
proceeding  in  the  hearing  of  a  cause  of  great  importance,  in 
which  he  was  leading  counsel.  For  this  reason,  he  requested, 
through  a  friend,  a  postponement  of  the  debate.  General 
Ilayne  objected  ;  and  the  request  was  refused.  The  assailant, 
too,  selected  his  own  ground,  and  made  his  choice  of  topics, 
without  reference  to  the  resolution  before  the  senate,  or  the  le- 
gitimate subject  of  debate.  The  time,  the  matter,  and  the 
manner,  indicate  that  the  attack  was  made  with  a  design  to 
crush  a  formidable  political  opponent.  To  this  end,  personal 
history,  the  annals  of  New  England  and  of  the  federal  party 


270  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

were  ransacked  for  materials.  It  was  attempted  to  make  him 
responsible,  not  only  for  what  was  his  own,  hut  for  the  opinions 
and  conduct  of  others.  All  the  errors  and  delinquencies,  real 
or  supposed,  of  Massachusetts,  and  the  eastern  states,  and  of 
the  federal  party,  during  the  war  of  1812,  and  throughout  their 
history,  were  to  be  accumulated  on  hi  in.  It  was  supposed, 
that,  as  a  representative,  he  would  be  driven  to  defend  what 
was  indefensible,  and  to  uphold  what  could  not  be  sustained, 
and  as  a  federalist,  to  oppose  the  popular  resolutions  of  '98. 

"  General  Hayne  heralded  his  speech  with  a  declaration  of 
war,  with  taunts  and  threats,  vaunting  anticipated  triumph,  as 
if  to  paralyze  by  intimidation  ;  saying  that  he  had  something 
rankling  in  his  breast,  and  that  he  would  carry  the  war  into 
Africa,  until  he  had  obtained  indemnity  for  the  past  and  secu- 
rity for  the  future. 

"  Mr.  Webster  evidently  felt  the  magnitude  of  the  occasion, 
and  a  consciousness  that  he  was  more  than  equal  to  it.  On  no 
other  occasion,  although  I  have  heard  him  hundreds  of  times, 
have  I  seen  him  so  thoroughly  aroused.  Yet,  when  he  com- 
menced, and  throughout  the  whole,  he  was  perfectly  self-pos- 
sessed and  self-controlled.  Nev-;r  was  his  bearing  more  lofty, 
his  person  more  majestic,  his  manner  more  appropriate  and 
impressive. 

"  At  first,  a  few  of  his  opponents  made  some  show  of  indif- 
ference. But  the  power  of  the  orator  soon  swept  away  all  af- 
fectation ;  and  a  solemn,  deep,  absorbing  interest,  was  mani- 
fested by  all,  and  continued  even  through  his  profound  discus- 
sion of  constitutional  law. 

"  When  he  closed,  the  impression  upon  all  was  too  deep  for 
utterance,  and,  to  this  day,  no  one  who  was  present  has  spo- 
ken of  that  speech,  but  as  a  matchless  achievement  and  a  com- 
plete triumph.  When  he  sat  down,  General  Hayne  arose,  and 
endeavored  to  restate  and  reenforce  his  argument.  This  in 


Mn.  MARCH'S  DESCRIPTION.  271 

stantly  called  forth  from  Mr.  Webster  that  final,  condensed 
reply,  which  has  the  foree  of  a  moral  demonstration." 

This  statement,  however,  authentic  and  comprehensive  as  it 
is,  does  not  meet  the  demand  which  exists  everywhere,  and 
always  will  exist,  to  have  a  more  particular  description  of 
the  scene.  The  great  artist,  George  P.  A.  Ilealey,  has  put 
the  scene  on  canvas ;  but  painting,  graphic  and  striking  in 
such  portraitures,  is  too  limited  in  its  range.  The  universal 
mind  of  the  age  wants  the  word-picture,  a  picture  that  can  be 
indefinitely  multiplied,  and  universally  exhibited  ;  and  such  a 
picture  has  been  given,  with  what  precise  accuracy  persons  not 
present  will  never  be  able  entirely  to  determine,  but  which, 
if  accurate,  is  certainly  brilliant,  and  satisfactory  : 

"  It  was  on  Tuesday,  January  the  26th,  1830" — says  the 
writer,  Mr.  C.  W.  March,  whom  all  subsequent  historians 
and  biographers  will  be  compelled  to  quote* — "a  day  to  be 
hereafter  forever  memorable  in  senatorial  annals, — that  the 
senate  resumed  the  consideration  of  Foote's  resolution.  There 
never  was  before,  in  the  city,  an  occasion  of  so  much  excite- 
ment. To  witness  this  great  intellectual  contest,  multitudes  of 
strangers  had  for  two  or  three  days  previous  been  rushing  into  the 
city,  and  the  hotels  overflowed.  As  early  as  nine  o'clock  of 
this  morning,  crowds  poured  into  the  capitol,  in  hot  haste ;  at 
twelve  o'clock,  the  hour  of  meeting,  the  senate-chamber, — its  gal- 
leries, floor,  and  even  lobbies, — was  filled  to  its  utmost  capa- 
city. The  very  stairways  were  dark  with  men,  who  hung  on 
to  one  another,  like  bees  in  a  swarm. 

•"  The  house  of  representatives  was  early  deserted.  An  ad- 
journment would  have  hardly  made  it  emptier.  The  speaker, 
•t  is  time,  retained  his  chair,  but  no  business  of.  moment  was,  or 

*  Mr  Everett's  abridgment  of  Mr.  March's  pages  is  adopted.  Those  who  wish  tc 
ri-ad  the  account  entire,  can  do  so  in  Mr.  March's  work — "  Reminis-:cncfle  f  Con 
eress'' — which  will  well  repay  a  perusal. 


272  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

could  be,  attended  to.  Members  all  rushed  in  to  hear  Mr. 
Webster,  and  no  call  of  the  house  or  other  parliamentary  pro- 
ceedings could  compel  them  back.*  The  floor  of  the  senate  was 
so  densely  crowded,  that  persons  once  in  could  not  get  out,  nor 
change  their  position  ;  in  the  rear  of  the  vice-presidential  chair, 
the  crowd  was  particularly  intense.  Dixon  II.  Lewis,  then  a 
representative  from  Alabama,  became  wedged  in  here.  From 
his  enormous  size,  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  move  without  dis- 
placing a  vast  portion  of  the  multitude.  Unfortunately,  too,  for 
him,  he  was  jammed  in  directly  behind  the  chair  of  the  vice- 
president,  where  he  could  not  see,  and  hardly  hear,  the  speaker. 
By  slow  and  laborious  effort — pausing  occasionally  to  breathe 
— he  gained  one  of  the  windows,  which,  constructed  of  painted 
glass,  flank  the  chair  of  the  vice-president  on  either  side.  Here 
he  paused,  unable  to  make  more  headway.  But  determined 
to  see  Mr.  Webster  as  he  spoke,  with  his  knife  he  made  a  large 
hole  in  one  of  the  panes  of  the  glass ;  which  is  still  visible  as 
he  made  it.  Many  were  so  placed,  as  not  to  be  able  to  see 
the  speaker  at  all. 

"  The  courtesy  of  senators  accorded  to  the  fairer  sex  room 
on  the  floor — the  most  gallant  of  them  their  own  seats.  The 
gay  bonnets  and  brilliant  dresses  threw  a  varied  and  picturesque 
beauty  over  the  scene,  softening  and  embellishing  it. 

"  Seldom,  if  ever,  has  speaker  in  this  or  any  other  country 
had  more  powerful  incentives  to  exertion  ;  a  subject,  the  de- 
termination of  which  involved  the  most  important  interests,  and 
even  duration,  of  the  republic ;  competitors,  unequaled  in  rep- 
utation, ability,  or  position  ;  a  name  to  make  still  more  glori- 
ous, or  lose  forever;  and- an  audience,  comprising  not  only 
persons  of  this  country  most  eminent  in  intellectual  greatness, 
but  representatives  of  other  nations,  where  the  art  of  eloquence 
had  flourished  for  ages.  All  the  soldier  seeks  in  opportunity 
was  here. 

"Mr.  "Webster  perceived,  and  felt  equal  to,  the  destinies  of 


MARCH'S  DESCRIPTION  CONTINUED.  273 

th«.  moment.  The  very  greatness  of  the  hazard  exhilerated 
him.  His  spirits  rose  with  the  occasion.  He  awaited  the  time 
of  onset  with  a  stern  and  impatient  joy.  He  felt  like  the  war- 
horse  of  the  Scriptures, — who  '  paweth  in  the  valley,  and  re- 
joiceth  in  his  strength  :  who  goeth  on  to  meet  the  armed  men; 
who  sayeth  among  the  trumpets,  Ha,  ha !  and  who  smelleth 
the  battle  afar  off,  the  thunder  of  the  captains  and  the  shouting.' 

"  A  confidence  in  his  own  resources,  springing  from  no  vain 
estimate  of  his  power,  but  the  legitimate  offspring  of  previous 
severe  mental  discipline,  sustained  and  excited  him.  He  had 
guaged  his  opponents,  his  subject,  and  himself. 

"  He  was,  too,  at  this  period,  in  the  very  prime  of  manhood. 
He  had  reached  middle  age — an  era  in  the  life  of  man,  when 
the  faculties,  physical  or  intellectual,  may  be  supposed  to  attain 
their  fullest  organization,  and  most  perfect  development. 
Whatever  there  was  in  him  of  intellectual  energy  and  vitality,  the 
occasion,  his  full  life  and  high  ambition,  might  well  bring  forth. 

"  He  never  rose  on  an  ordinary  occasion  to  address  an  ordi- 
nary audience  more  self-possessed.  There  was  no  tremulous- 
ness  in  his  voice  or  manner ;  nothing  hurried,  nothing  simula- 
ted. The  calmness  of  superior  strength  was  visible  every- 
where ;  in  countenance,  voice  and  bearing.  A  deep-seated 
conviction  of  the  extraordinary  character  of  the  emergency,  and 
of  his  ability  to  control  it,  seemed  to  possess  him  wholly.  If 
jn  observer,  more  than  ordinarily  keen-sighted,  detected  at 
times  something  like  exultation  in  his  eye,  he  presumed  it 
sprang  from  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  and  the  anticipation 
of  victory. 

"  The  anxiety  to  hear  the  speech  was  so  intense,  irrepressi- 
ble, and  universal,  that  no  sooner  had  the  vice-president  as- 
sumed the  chair,  than  a  motion  was  made  and  unanimously 
carried,  to  postpone  the  ordinary  preliminaries  of  senatorial  ao 
tion,  and  to  tnke  up  immediately  the  consideration  of  fbe  reso 
lution. 


274  WEBSTER,    AND    HIS    MASTEH-TIKCKS. 

"  Mr.  Webster  rose  and  addressed  the  senate.  His  exor 
dium  is  known  by  heart,  everywhere  :  '  Air.  President,  when 
the  mariner  has  been  tossed,  for  many  days,  in  thick  weather, 
and  on  an  unknown  sea,  he  naturally  avails  himself  of  the  first 
pause  in  the  storm,  the  earliest  glance  of  the  sun,  to  take  his 
latitude,  and  ascertain  how  far  the  elements  have  driven  him 
from,  his  true  course.  Let  us  imitate  this  prudence ;  and  be- 
fore we  float  further,  on  the  waves  of  this  debate,  refer  to  the 
point  from  which  we  departed,  that  we  may,  at  least,  be  able 
to  form  some  conjecture  where  we  now  are.  I  ask  for  the 
reading  of  the  resolution.' 

"  There  wanted  no  more  to  enchain  the  attention.  There  was 
a  spontaneous,  though  silent,  expression  of  eager  approbation, 
as  the  orator  concluded  these  opening  remarks.  And  while 
the  clerk  read  the  resolution,  many  attempted  the  impossibility 
of  getting  nearer  the  speaker.  Every  head  was  inclined  closer 
towards  him,  every  ear  turned  in  the  direction  of  his  voice — and 
that  deep,  sudden,  mysterious  silence  followed,  which  always  at- 
tends fullness  of  emotion.  From  the  sea  of  upturned  faces  be- 
fore him,  the  orator  beheld  his  thoughts  reflected  as  from  a 
mirror.  The  varying  countenance,  the  suffused  eye,  the  earn- 
est smile,  and  ever-attentive  look,  assured  him  of  his  audience's 
entire  sympathy.  If  among  his  hearers  there  were  those  who 
affected  at  first  an  indifference  to  his  glowing  thoughts  and  fer- 
pent  periods,  the  difficult  mask  was  soon  laid  aside,  and  pro- 
found, undisguised,  devoted  attention  followed.  In  the  earlier 
part  of  his  speech,  one  of  his  principal  opponents  seemed  deeply 
engrossed  in  the  careful  perusal  of  a  newspaper  he  held  before 
his  face ;  but  this,  on  nearer  approach,  proved  to  be  upside 
down.  In  truth,  all,  sooner  or  later,  voluntarily,  or  in  spite  of 
themselves,  were  wholly  carried  away  by  the  eloquence  of  the 
orator. 

"  Those  who  had  doubted  Mr.  Webster's  ability  to  cope 
with  and  overcome  his  opponents,  were  fully  satisfied  of  their 


•rf^fwUd     jSkiCRIPTION    CONTINUED.  275 

srror  before  he  had  proceeded  far  in  his  speech.  Their  fears 
soon  took  another  direction.  When  they  heard  his  sentences 
of  powerful  thought,  towering  in  accumulative  grandeur,  one 
above  the  other,  as  if  the  orator  si/ove,  Titan-like,  to  reach  the 
very  heavens  themselves,  they  were  giddy  with  an  apprehen- 
sion that  he  would  break  down  in  his  flight.  They  dared  not 
believe  that  genius,  learning,  any  intellectual  endowment  how- 
ever uncommon,  that  was  simply  mortal,  could  sustain  itself 
long  in  a  career  seemingly  so  perilous.  They  feared  an  Jcarian 
fall. 

"  What  New  England  heart  was  there  bdt  throbbed  with 
vehement,  tumultuous,  irrepressible  emotion,  as  he  dwelt  upon 
New  England  sufferings,  New  England  struggles,  and  New 
England  triumphs  during  the  war  of  the  revolution  ?  There 
was  scarcely  a  dry  eye  in  the  senate ;  all  hearts  were  over- 
come ;  grave  judges  and  men  grown  old  in  dignified  lifei 
turned  aside  their  heads,  to  conceal  the  evidences  of  their 
emotion. 

"  In  one  corner  of  the  gallery  was  clustered  a  group  of  Mas- 
sachusetts men.  They  had  hung  from  the  first  moment  upon  the 
words  of  the  speaker,  with  feelings  variously  but  always  warmly 
excited,  deepening  in  intensity  as  he  proceeded.  At  first,  while 
the  orator  was  going  through  his  exordium,  they  held  their 
breath  and  hid  their  faces,  mindful  of  the  savage  attack  upon 
him  and  New  England,  and  die  fearful  odds  against  him,  her 
champion ;  as  he  went  deeper  into  his  speech,  they  felt  easier , 
when  he  turned  Hayne's  flank  on  Banquo's  ghost,  they  breathed 
freer  and  deeper.  But  now,  as  he  alluded  to  Massachusetts, 
their  feelings  were  strained  to  their  highest  tension ;  and  when 
the  orator,  concluding  his  encomium  upon  the  land  of  their 
birth,  turned,  intentionally,  or  otherwise,  his  burning  eye  full 
upon  them — they  shed  tears  like  girls  ! 

"  No  one  who  was  riot  present  can  understand  the  excite- 
ment of  the  scene.  No  one  who  was,  can  give  an  adequate 
VOL.  i.  L*  )w 


276  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

description  of  it.  No  word-painting  can  convey  the  deep,  in 
tense  enthusiasm,  the  reverential  attention,  of  that  vast  assem 
bly — nor  limner  transfer  to  canvas  their  earnest,  eager,  awe- 
struck countenances.  Though  language  were  as  subtile  and 
flexible  as  thought,  it  still  would  be  impossible  to  represent  the 
full  idea  of  the  scene.  There  is  something  intangible  in  an 
emotion,  which  cannot  be  transferred.  The  nicer  shades  of 
feeling  elude  pursuit.  Every  description,  therefore,  of  the  oc- 
casion, seems  to  the  narrator  himself  most  tame,  spiritless, 
unjust. 

"  Much  of  the  instantaneous  effect  of  the  speech  arose,  of 
course,  from  the  orator's  delivery — the  tones  of  his  voice,  his 
countenance,  and  manner.  These  die  mostly  with  the  occasion 
that  calls  them  forth — the  impression  is  lost  in  the  attempt  at 
transmission  from  one  mind  to  another.  They  can  only  be  de- 
scribed in  general  terms.  '  Of  the  effectiveness  of  Mr.  Web- 
ster's manner,  in  many  parts,'  says  Mr.  Everett,  'it  would  be 
in  vain  to  attempt  to  give  any  one  not  present  the  faintest  idea. 
It  has  been  my  fortune  to  hear  some  of  the  ablest  speeches  of 
the  greatest  living  ora  ors  on  both  sides  of  the  water,  but  I 
must  confess,  I  never  heard  anything  which  so  completely  re- 
alized my  conception  of  what  Demosthenes  was.  when  he  de- 
livered the  Oration  for  the  Crown.' 

"  The  variety  of  incident  during  the  speech,  and  the  rapid 
fluctuation  of  passions,  kept  the  audience  in  continual  expecta- 
tion and  ceaseless  agitation.  There  was  no  chord  of  the  heart 
the  orator  did  not  strike,  as  with  a  master-hand.  The  speech 
was  a  complete  drama  of  comic  and  pathetic  scenes ;  one  va- 
ried excitement ;  laughter  and  tears  gaining  alternate  victory. 

"  A  great  portion  of  the  speech  is  strictly  argumentative  ;  an 
exposition  of  constitutional  law.  But  grave  as  such  portion 
necessarily  is,  severely  logical,  abounding  in  no  fancy  or  epi- 
sode, it  engrossed  throughout  the  undivided  attention  of  every 
intelligent  hearer.  Abstractions,  under  the  glowing  genius  of 


MARCH  8    DESCRIPTION    CONTINUED. 


27-7 


the  orator,  acquired  a  beauty,  a  vitality,  a  power  to  thrill  the 
blood  and  enkindle  the  affections,  awakening  into  earnest  activ- 
ity many  a  dormant  faculty.  His  ponderous  syllables  had  an 
energy,  a  vehemence  of  meaning  in  them  that  fascinated,  while 
they  startled.  His  thoughts  in  their  statuesque  beauty  merely 
would  have  gained  all  critical  judgment ;  but  he  realized  tho 
antique  fable,  and  warmed  the  marble  into  life.  There  was  a 
sense  of  power  in  his  language — of  power  withheld  and  sug- 
gestive of  still  greater  power — that  subdued,  as  by  a  spell  of 
mystery,  the  hearts  of  all.  For  power,  whether  intellectual  or 
physical,  produces  in  its  earnest  development  a  feeling  closely 
allied  to  awe.  It  was  never  more  felt  than  on  this  occasion. 
It  -had  entire  mastery.  The  sex,  which  is  said  to  love  it  best 
arid  abuse  it  most,  seemed  as  much  or  more  carried  away  than 
the  sterner  one.  Many  who  had  entered  the  hall  with  light, 
gay  thoughts,  anticipating  at  most  a  pleasurable  excitement, 
sooii  became  deeply  interested  in  the  speaker  and  his  subject — 
surrendered  him  their  entire  heart ;  and,  when  the  speech  was 
over,  and  they  left  the  hall,  it  was  with  sadder  perhaps,  but, 
surely,  with  far  more  elevated  and  ennobling  emotions. 

"  The  exulting  rush  of  feeling  with  which  he  went  through 
the  peroration,  threw  a  glow  over  his  countenance,  like  inspira 
tion.  Eye,  brow,  each  feature,  every  line  of  the  face,  seemed 
touched,  as  with  a  celestial  fire.  All  gazed  as  at  something 
more  than  human.  So  Moses  might  have  appeared  to  the 
awe-struck  Israelites,  as  he  emerged  from  the  dark  clouds  and 
thick  smoke  of  Sinai,  his  face  all  radiant  v,  ith  the  breath  of 
divinity  ! 

"  The  swell  and  roll  of  his  voice  struck  upon  the  ears  of  the 
spell-bound  audience,  in  deep  and  melodious  cadence,  as  waves 
upon  the  shore  of  the 'far-resounding' sea.  The  Miltonic  gran 
deur  of  his  words  was  the  fit  expression  of  his  thought,  and 
raised  his  hearers  up  to  his  theme.  His  voice,  exerted  to  ite 
utmost  power,  oenetrated  every  recess  or  corner  of  the  senate — 


278  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

penetrated  even  the  ante-rooms  and  stairways,  as  he  pronounced 
in  deepest  tones  of  pathos  these  words  of  solemn  significance : 
'  When  my  eyes  shall  be  turned  to  behold,  for  the  last  time, 
the  sun  hi  heaven,  may  I  not  see  him  shining  on  the  broken  and 
dishonored  fragments  of  a  once  glorious  Union ;  on  states  dis- 
severed, discordant,  belligerent !  on  a  land  rent  with  civil  feuds, 
or  drenched,  it  may  be,  in  fraternal  blood  !  Let  their  last 
feeble  and  lingering  glance  rather  behold  the  gorgeous  ensign 
of  the  Republic,  now  known  and  honored  throughout  the  earth, 
still  full  high  advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming  hi  their 
original  luster,  not  a  stripe  erased  nor  polluted,  not  a  single 
star  obscured,  bearing  for  its  motto  no  such  miserable  interrog- 
atory as  "  What  is  all  this  worth1?"  Nor  those  other  words 
of  delusion  and  folly,  Liberty  first  and  Union  afterwards;  but 
everywhere,  spread  all  over  in  characters  of  living  light,  bla- 
zing on  all  its  ample  folds,  as  they  float  over  the  sea  and  over 
the  land,  and  in  every  wind  under  the  whole  heavens,  that 
other  sentiment,  dear  to  every  American  heart,  LIBERTY  and 

UNION,  NOW  AND  FOREVER,  ONE  AND  INSEPARABLE.' 

"  The  speech  was  over,  but  the  tones  of  the  orator  still  lin- 
gered upon  the  ear,  and  the  audience,  unconscious  of  the  close, 
retained  their  positions.  The  agitated  countenance,  the  heaving 
breast,  the  suffused  eye,  attested  the  continued  influence  of  the 
spell  upon  them.  Hands  that  in  the  excitement  of  the  mo- 
ment had  sought  each  other,  still  remained  closed  in  an  uncon- 
scious grasp.  Eye  still  turned  to  eye,  to  receive  and  repay 
mutual  sympathy  ;  and  everywhere  around  seemed  forgetful 
ness  of  all  but  the  orator's  presence  and  words." 

The  speech,  indeed,  was  over  ;  but  the  fame  of  it  will  re- 
main in  the  world,  probably,  as  long  as  the  English  language. 
It  will  be  read  and  admired  by  scores  and  hundreds  of  coming 
generations.  It  is  now  universally  regarded,  in  this  country 
and  in  Europe,  as  the  master-piece  of  modern  eloquence. 
Neither  Pitt,  nor  Fox,  nor  Burke,  ever  surpassed  it.  It  \viil 


POPULARITY  OF  THE  SPEECH.  279 

probably  not  be  surpasssed,  if  it  is  ever  equaled,  on  this  conti- 
nent. Ages  must  pass,  if  the  future  is  to  be  judged  by  what 
has  been,  before  the  man,  the  occasion,  and  the  provocation 
•will  again  come  together,  and  make  such  an  effort  again  possi- 
ble. It  only  remains  for  us,  Americans,  to  remember  that  we 
owe  the  distinction  of  having  produced  the  proudest  and  might- 
iest parliamentary  effort  since  the  days  of  the  classic  orators,  tc 
a  man,  an  orator,  a  statesman,  an  American  citizen,  who, 
born  in  obscurity  and  raised  to  this  exalted  point  of  power  en- 
tirely under  the  influence  of  those  republican  institutions  which 
he  so  gloriously  defended,  accomplished  enough  to  make  his 
country  illustrious,  and  his  own  name  immortal. 

The  immediate  popularity  of  the  speech  is  without  a 
parallel  in  this  country.  It  called  forth  the  loudest  encomi- 
ums from  all  the  presses,  whig  and  democratic,  of  the  nation,  with 
the  exception,  of  course,  of  those  of  South  Carolina.  It  virtually 
closed  the  debate,  though  Mr.  Foote's  resolution  continued  be- 
fore the  senate  till  the  21st  of  May,  when  it  was  indefinitely 
postponed ;  but  the  controversy,  and  the  doctrine  on  which  it 
had  been  based  in  congress,  was  not  given  up  by  those  mem- 
bers who  had  started  it.  It  continued  to  occupy  them  for 
the  next  three  years,  during  which  period  it  was  also  Mr. 
Webster's  chief  care  to  watch  and  overturn  their  movements. 

In  the  first  days  of  December,  1832,  South  Carolina  passrd  her 
celebrated  ordinance  of  nullification,  which  forbade  the  collection 
of  the  revenues  of  the  United  States  accruing  under  the  tariff  of 
1828 ;  and  on  the  1 1th  of  the  same  month,  President  Jackson,  who 
had  secretly  gloried  in  Mr.  Webster's  victory  over  the  vice-presi- 
dent, and  that  gentleman's  faction  of  the  democratic  party,  sent 
forth  his  famous  proclamation.  The  counter  proclamation  of  Mr. 
Hayne,  now  governor  of  his  state, immediately  succeeded,  where- 
upon, as  was  calculated  by  MY.  Calhoun,  who  had  resigned  the 
•vice-presidency  and  taken  a  seat  in  the  senate,  President  Jacksor. 
Inid  the  whole  matter  before  congress  in  a  special  message,  dated 


£80  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

January  16th,  1833 ;  and,  in  five  days  afterward?,  the  Force 
Bill,  or  a  bill  "to  make  further  provision  for  the  ccllection  of 
the  revenue,"  was  introduced  into  the  senate  by  Mr.  Wilkins, 
of  Pennsylvania.  On  the  22d,  Mr.  Calhoun  read  to  the  senate, 
a  series  of  resolutions  in  opposition  to  this  bill,  and  afterwards 
sustained  them  by  a  speech,  which,  continuing  through  two  days 
(the  15th  and  16i*h  of  February)  is  generally  regarded  as  the 
ablest  of  his  published  efforts.  To  this  speech,  Mr.  Webster 
made  an  immediate  reply,  which  occupied  more  than  five  hours 
in  its  delivery,  and  is  looked  upon  by  the  best  judges  as  supe- 
rior, in  pure  argument,  to  his  more  celebrated  speech  on 
Foote's  resolution,  but  not  so  graphic,  powerful  or  popular  in 
style.  In  his  answer  to  Mr.  Hayne,  he  had  a  popular  orator 
to  meet ;  and  he  had  met  him,  and  overwhelmed  him,  on  his 
own  ground,  and  in  his  own  method.  In  his  answer  to  Mr. 
Calhoun,  he  had  to  encounter  a  subtle  logician,  an  acute  and 
metaphysical  dialectician ;  and  him  he  met,  and  him  he  mas- 
tered and  routed  from  his  strong-holds,  by  a  logic  more  deep, 
by  dialectics  equally  acute,  and  by  a  general  strain  of  argu- 
ment which  his  antagonist  never  answered,  nor  tried  to  answer. 
So  far  as  argument  could  go,  in  fact,  the  controversy  here  closed. 
The  presses  of  the  country,  of  both  parties,  again  teemed  with 
their  admiration  of  his  patriotism  and  abilities.  With  the 
highest  honors  of  his  own  party  now  upon  him,  h-3  received 
daily  and  hourly  the  eulogiums  of  the  democratic  party.  The 
past  and  the  present  seemed  to  conspire  to  give  him  their  ben- 
edictions; Ex-President  Madison,  the  champion  of  the  older 
democracy  of  the  country,  and  as  the  representative  of  that 
democracy,  sent  him  an  autograph  letter,  thanking  him  in  the 
warmest  terms  for  his  services  in  overthrowing  the  South  Car- 
olina faction  ;  and,  stranger  still,  on  the  day  when  he  made  his 
closing  speech  against  that  faction,  the  existing  president  of  the 
United  States,  who  embodied  the  principles,  and  sentiments, 
and  will  of  the  ruling  democracy  of  that  period,  sent  him  to 


DISTINGUISHED    MARKS    OF   ESTEEM.  281 

the  senate-chamber,  as  if  to  complete  the  form  and  reality  of 
the  ovation,  in  his  own  carriage.  At  that  moment,  in  fact, 
there  was  no  individual  in  the  country,  nor  a  man  on  this 
continent,  who  carried  in  himself  the  respect,  the  influence,  the 
power  then  possessed  and  exercised  by  Daniel  Webster. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SECOND  TERM  AS  SENATOR   FROM  MASSACHUSETTS. 

WHILE  following  out  the  public  career  of  a  great  man,  the 
world  is  very  apt  to  forget  him  almost  altogether  as  a  pri- 
vate individual.  His  household,  his  home,  which  to  him,  with 
all  his  labors  and  honors,  constitutes  the  charmed  center  of 
his  thoughts,  and  for  the  sake  of  which,  as  he  sees  things. 
are  all  his  exertions,  and  all  the  fruits  of  his  exertions,  are 
scarcely  recollected.  What  others  look  uj>i»i  with  such  admi- 
ration as  to  blind  them  to  all  else  in  the  great  man's  history, 
he  regards  as  very  trivial,  as  mere  out-door  talk,  as  a  shadow 
of  something  far  more  real  and  infinitely  more  dear  to  him, 
when,  his  public  character  laid  entirely  aside  as  not  to  be  now 
cared  for,  he  sits  at  his  own  fireside,  where  the  joys  of  the  fam- 
ily are  now  his  only  joys,  where  its  cares  are  his  solicitudes, 
and  where  he  basks  in  the  soft  sunlight,  shaded  though  it  occa- 
sionally be,  of  domestic  love,  peace  and  quietude.  This  is  par- 
ticularly true  in  looking  into  the  life  of  so  great  a  man  as  Web- 
ster ;  and  we  are  sometimes  compelled  to  turn  our  eyes  back- 
ward, for  a  short  time,  at  least,  as  at  this  moment,  to  bring 
up  events,  serene  or  sorrowful,  pertaining  to  the  domestic 
circle. 

It  will  be  rembered,  that,  in  the  year  1808,  and  in  the  twen- 
ty-sixth of  his  life,  Mr.  Webster  married  Grace  Fletcher, 
daughter  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Fletcher  of  Hopkinton,  New  Hamp- 
shire; and  if  it  be  true,  as  has  been  remarked  by  Tacitus,  th.it 
-i  the  praise  of  a  valuable  wife  should  alwavs  rise  in  proportion 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  WIFE.  283 

to  the  weight  of  censure  that  falls  on  such  as  dishonor  the  nup- 
tial union,"  the  virtues  of  Grace  Fletcher  deserve  a  monument 
more  durable  than  brass  or  marble.  In  addition  to  her  personal 
beauty,  and  to  the  refinement  of  her  well-developed  and  well- 
stored  mind,  she  was  renowned  for  the  amiableness  of  her  dis- 
position, the  sweetness  of  her  temper,  and  the  overflowing  be- 
nevolence of  her  heart,  from  childhood  to  womanhood,  at  home 
and  everywhere,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  her  exist- 
ence. One  ruling  sentiment,  if  it  were  not  a  passion,  was  the 
characteristic  of  her  being  after  marriage.  That  was  her  de- 
votion to  her  husband.  In  every  sense  of  the  word,  in  which 
it  bears  a  consistent  and  proper  meaning,  Mr.  Webster  was 
h'  r  idol.  She  loved  him  with  the  deepest  possible  affection. 
She  loved  him  as  the  husband  of  her  youth,  whom  she  received 
to  her  heart,  when  he  himself  had  nothing  better  than  his  own 
great  and  good  heart  to  give ;  and  from  the  day  of  their  ac- 
quaintance, particularly  from  the  day  of  their  marriage,  his 
happiness  was  her  daily  study,  his  success  was  her  constant 
theme,  his  renown,  as  he  began  to  have  a  renown,  and  to  grow 
in  it,  was  watched,  and  cherished,  and  enjoyed  next  to  the  favor 
of  God  and  the  smile  of  heaven.  They  lived  a  most  peaceful, 
pure  and  happy  life.  Their  affection  was  mutual.  Mr.  Web- 
ster, whose  sensibilities  were  uncommonly  strong,  and  whose 
tenderness  was  equally  sensitive  and  delicate,  as  has  been  seen 
in  his  feelings  towards  his  mother,  his  father  and  his  brother, 
gave  to  her  his  whole  being,  and  joyed  in  her  as  the  better 
essence  and  expression  of  his  own  higher  life.  She  was  not 
destined,  however,  to  go  with  him  to  the  end  of  his  great  ca- 
reer. She  did  not  live,  indeed,  to  see  him  at  the  acme  of  his 
greatness.  That  favor,  which  would  have  been  to  her  as  a  sec- 
ond life,  was  not  given  to  her.  In  the  year  1827,  while  ac- 
companying her  husband  to  Washington,  she  was  taken  sud 
denly  ill  in  the  city  of  New  York,  and  was  cut  down  in  the 
bloom  and  beauty  of  her  ripe  womanhood.  She  had  lived  wirh 


284  WEBSTER    AND    UIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

her  illustrious  partner  for  nearly  twenty  years ;  she  had  seen 
the  coming  shadow  of  his  great  fame ;  she  had  read  some  of 
his  greatest  efforts,  his  oration  at  Plymouth,  at  Bunker  Hill, 
and  in  Fanueil  Hall  over  the  memories  of  Jefferson  and  Ad- 
ams ;  she  had  gone  with  him  till  he  had  become,  by  universal 
consent,  the  first  of  her  country's  lawyers  and  orators ;  but  she 
did  not  see  him,  by  an  acknowledgment  so  entirely  unanimous, 
the  first  of  living  statesmen.  That  highest  and  last  satisfaction 
she  never  had  ;  and  her  husband  never  had  his  last  and  highest 
satisfaction  of  seeing  her  enjoy  the  full  maturity  of  his  reputa- 
tion ;  nor  did  the  world  stop  then,  as  it  has  never  stopped  since, 
to  measure  the  mutual  loss  in  this  respect,  or  the  far  greater 
and  deeper  loss,  of  another  character,  suffered  by  the  sorrowing 
survivor.  His  sufferings  are  described  as  being  almost  with- 
out a  parallel.  When  he  laid  her  in  her  low  mansion,  it  is 
said  that  he  clung  to  the  spot,  and  would  not,  for  a  long  time, 
be  taken  from  it.  While  the  tears  ran  down  his  face  in  streams, 
he  was  speechless,  the  only  syllables  he  was  heard  to  utter  be- 
ing a  word  or  two  of  pathetic  eulogy  on  the  character  of  the 
loved  and  lost: 


•  My  true  and  honorable  wife, 


As  dear  to  me  as  are  the  ruddy  drops 
That  visit  my  sad  heart ! " 


Never  was  a  truer  or  more  heart-felt  eulogy  spoken  by  the 
lips  of  spontaneous  and  unflattering  grief.  He  felt  every  word 
of  what  he  said ;  and  every  syllable,  with  all  that  each  could 
be  made  to  mean,  was  seen  to  have  a  growing  meaning  in  it, 
as  the  mourner  passed  away  from  the  grave,  and  mixed  again 
in  the  world's  great  strife. 

From  that  day,  alas !  the  faithful  historian  is  compelled  to 
say,  he  was  never  entirely  the  same  man  he  had  been  before. 
The  bright  star  of  his  life  had  set.  The  soul  that  had  attracted, 
guided,  governed  him,  as  a  secret  and  unseen  influence  will  often 


SECOND    MARRIAGE.  285 

give  direction  tc  bodies  of  the  greatest,  magnitude,  governed, 
guided,  attracted  him  no  more.  Though,  to  the  last  hour  of  his 
existence,  he  continued  to  look  back  to  her,  as  the  cynosure  of 
all  that  was  brightest  in  his  recollection  and  experience,  whom 
he  ever  mentioned,  with  a  voice  tremulous  with  affection,  as 
the  "mother  of  his  children,"  it  is  quite  certain,  that  the  world 
never  appeared  wholly  inviting  to  him  from  the  hour  of  their 
separation  ;  and  perhaps  it  is  equally  certain,  though  the  fact 
is  almost  too  mournful  to  be  made  historical,  that  everything  in 
the  great  life  of  this  remarkably  great  man,  such  as  there  is  some- 
thing of  in  every  mortal's  life,  which  would  not  stand  the  scru- 
tiny of  a  death-bed,  or  pass  the  ordeal  of  heaven  were  God  un- 
feeling and  unforgiving,  may  be  referred  to  this  bereavement, 
and  to  the  struggles  of  a  broken  heart  to  dispel  or  drown  the 
memory  of  its  grief. 

Remaining  single  for  about  three  years,  Mr.  Webster  was 
married,  in  1830,  to  Miss  Caroline  Le  Roy,  daughter  of  Her- 
man Le  Roy,  of  the  city  of  New  York,  a  lady  of  great  personal 
attractions,  of  a  superior  mind  and  culture,  who,  in  every  way, 
was  worthy  of  the  greatest  of  Americans,  and  who  now  sur- 
vives him.  She  lived  to  appreciate,  to  comfort,  and  to  bless 
him. 

Returning  to  the  public  life  of  the  great  statesman,  it  will  be 
at  once  plain,  that  the  favor  bestowed  upon  him  by  President 
.l:u;kson,  unless  Mr.  Webster  should  choose  to  change  his  whole 
character  and  nature,  could  not  be  of  long  continuance.  The 
ruling  trait  of  the  president  was  his  resolution.  His  power  of 
will  was  exceedingly  great ;  but  it  was  not  greater,  though  less 
disciplined,  than  that  of  Mr.  Webster.  The  president's  will 
was  always  the  work  of  impulse  under  the  guidance  of  some- 
thing like  intuition.  The  will  of  Mr.  Webster,  in  all  its  move- 
ments, was  directed  by  deep  study,  extensive  research,  and  the 
most  careful  deliberation.  When  his  mind  was  once  made  up, 
however,  there  was  no 'power  on  earth  strong  enough  to  bend 


286  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

it.  His  principles,  too,  had  been  fixed  for  years  ;  and,  thougp 
he  now  chanced  to  take  a  part,  which  his  patriotism  compelled 
him  to  take,  but  which  happened  to  be  the  part  taken  also  by 
the  president  under  a  patriotism  equally  sincere,  he  had  by  nc 
means  given  up  the  doctrines  of  his  whole  life,  and  adopted  the 
political  system  of  the  administration.  Nor  was  it  possible,  by 
any  flattering  attentions,  or  by  any  promises  from  any  quarter, 
to  cause  him  to  swerve  at  all  from  the  line  of  duty  which  he 
had  marked  out  for  himself  as  a  statesman.  Not  only  were 
his  political  opponents,  with  either  threats  or  blandishments, 
always  and  entirely  unable  to  move  him  from  his  purposes ; 
but  even  his  friends,  his  own  party,  so  far  as  he  ever  had  a  party, 
were  ever  too  weak  in  their  influence  over  him  to  wield  his 
mighty  will,  or  cause  him  to  falter  for  a  moment  in  his  in- 
dependence. 

This  trait  of  his  character  was  particularly  manifest  soon  after 
the  remarkable  political  events  which  have  been  last  recorded. 
President  Jackson  had  shown  himself  very  friendly  to  Mr. 
Webster ;  but  when,  in  consequence  of  the  discord  of  the  ad- 
ministration party,  and  the  dissensions  of  the  existing  cabinet, 
Mr.  Van  Buren  resigned  the  chair  of  secretary  of  state,  and 
was  nominated  to  the  senate  as  minister  to  England,  Mr.  Web- 
ster had  been  foremost  in  that  majority  which  rejected  the  nom- 
ination ;  and  in  the  same  year,  1832,  he  had  advocated  the 
passage  of  the  bill  introduced  by  Mr.  Dallas,  for  the  establish- 
ment of  a  United  States  Bank. 

The  views  which  governed  him  in  respect  to  these  two  great 
measures  are  expressed  with  all  plainness  and  clearness  by  him- 
self. Speaking  of  the  nomination  of  Mr.  Van  Bureu,  and  defend- 
ing himself  from  the  suspicion  of  acting  on  party  grounds,  he 
comprehends  the  whole  subject  in  a  very  small  compass  :  "  I  am 
now  fully  aware,  sir,"  says  he,  "that  it  is  a  very  serious  matter 
to  vote  against  the  confirmation  of  a  minister  to  a  foreign  court. 
who  has  already  gone  abroad,  and  has  been  received  and  ac 


REJECTION    OF    VAN    BUREN.  287 

credited  by  the  government  to  which  he  is  sent.  I  am  aware 
that  the  rejection  of  this  nomination,  and  the  necessary  recall  of 
the  minister,  will  be  regarded  by  foreign  states,  at  the  first 
blush,  as  not  in  the  highest  degree  favorable  to  the  character 
of  our  government.  1  know,  moreover,  to  what  injurious  re- 
flections one  may  subject  himself,  especially  in  times  of  party 
excitement,  by  giving  a  negative  vote  on  such  a  nomination. 
But,  after  all,  I  am  placed  here  to  discharge  a  duty.  I  am  not 
to  go  through  a  formality.  I  am  to  perform  a  substantial  and 
responsible  duly.  I  am  to  advise  the  president  in  matters  of 
appointment.  This  is  my  constitutional  obligation ;  and  I  shall 
perform  it  conscientiously  and  fearlessly.  I  am  bound  to  say, 
then,  sir,  that,  for  one,  I  do  not  advise  nor  consent  to  this  nom- 
ination. I  do  not  think  it  a  fit  or  proper  nomination ;  and  my 
reasons  are  found  in  the  letter  of  instructions,  written  by  Mr. 
Van  Buren,  on  the  20th  of  July,  1829,  to  Mr.  McLane,  then 
going  to  the  court  of  England  as  American  minister.  I  think 
these  instructions  derogatory,  in  a  high  degree,  to  the  character 
and  honor  of  the  country.  I  think  they  show  a  manifest  dis- 
position in  the  writer  of  them  to  establish  a  distinction  between 
his  country  and  his  party ;  to  place  that  party  above  his  coun- 
try ;  to  make  interest  at  a  foreign  court  for  that  party  rather 
than  for  the  country  ;  to  persuade  the  English  ministry,  and 
the  English  monarch,  that  they  have  an  interest  in  maintaining 
in  the  United  States  the  ascendency  of  the  party  to  which  the 
writer  belongs.  Thinking  thus  of  the  purpose  and  object  of 
these  instructions,  I  cannot  be  of  opinion  that  their  author  is  a 
proper  representative  of  the  United  States  at  that  court.  There- 
fore it  is,  that  I  propose  to  vote  against  his  nomination.  It  is 
the  first  time,  I  believe,  in  modern  diplomacy,  it  is  certainly 
the  first  time  in  our  history,  in  which  a  minister  to  a  foreign 
court  has  sought  to  make  favor  for  one  party  at  home  against 
another,  or  has  stooped  from  being  the  representative  of  the 
whole  country  to  be  the  representative  of  a  party.  And  as 


288  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

this  is  the  first  instance  in  our  history  of  any  such  transacting 
so  I  intend  to  do  all  in  my  power  to  make  it  the  last.  For 
one.  I  set  my  mark  of  disapprobation  upon  it ;  I  contribute  my 
voice  and  my  vote  to  make  it  a  negative  example,  to  be  shunned 
and  avoided  by  all  future  ministers  of  the  United  States.  If, 
in  a  deliberate  and  formal  letter  of  instructions,  admonitions 
and  directions  are  given  to  a  minister,  and  repeated,  once  and 
again,  to  urge  these  mere  party  considerations  on  the  foreign 
government,  to  what  extent  is  it  probable  the  writer  himself 
will  be  disposed  to  urge  them,  in  his  thousand  opportunities 
of  informal  intercourse  with  the  agents  of  that  government  ?  " 
In  his  remarks  on  Mr.  Dallas'  bill  for  renewing  the  charter 
of  the  bank  of  the  United  States,  delivered  on  the  25th  of  May, 
1832,  he  took  occasion  not  only  to  state  his  reasons  for  sup- 
porting the  measure,  but  also  to  give  a  key  to  all  his  votes  in 
relation  to  the  general  subject ;  and  his  argumenta  ad  homi- 
nem,  directed  against  Mr.  Calhoun,  which  constitute  at  the 
same  time  his  own  defense,  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
most  ingenious  and  conclusive  passages  that  ever  issued  from 
his  lips  :  "  A  considerable  portion  of  the  active  part  of  life  has 
elapsed,"  says  the  orator,  "  since  you  and  I,  Mr.  President " — 
Calhoun  was  president  of  the  senate — "and  three  or  four  other 
gentlemen,  now  in  the  senate,  acted  our  respective  parts  in  the 
passage  of  the  bill  creating  the  present  bank  of  the  United  States. 
We  have  lived  to  little  purpose,  as  public  men,  if  the  experi- 
ence of  this  period  has  not  enlightened  our  judgments,  and  en- 
abled us  to  revise  our  opinions,  and  to  correct  any  errors  into 
which  we  may  have  fallen,  if  such  errors  there  were,  either  in 
regard  to  the  general  utility  of  a  national  bank,  or  the  details 
of  it*  constitution.  I  trust  it  will  not  be  unbecoming  the  occa- 
sion, if  I  allude  to  your  own  important  agency  in  the  transac- 
tion. The  bill  incorporating  the  bank,  and  giving  it  a  constitu- 
tion, proceeded  from  a  committee  in  the  house  of  representa- 
tives, of  which  you  were  chairman,  and  was  conducted  through 


UNITE!*    STATES    BAXK.  289 

the  house  under  your  distinguished  lead.  Having  recently 
looked  back  to  the  proceedings  of  that  day,  I  must  be  permit 
ted  to  say,  that  I  have  perused  the  speech  by  which  the  sub- 
ject was  introduced  to  the  consideration  of  the  house,  with  a 
revival  of  the  feeling  of  approbation  and  pleasure  with  which  I 
heard  it ;  and  I  will  add,  that  it  would  not,  perhaps,  now  be 
easy  to  find  a  better  brief  synopsis  than  that  speech  contains, 
of  those  principles  of  currency  and  of  banking,  which,  since  they 
spring  from  the  nature  of  money  and  commerce,  must  be  es- 
sentially the  same  at  all  times,  in  all  commercial  communities. 
The  other  gentlemen  now  with  us  in  the  senate,  all  of  them,  I 
believe,  concurred  with  the  chairman  of  the  committee,  and 
voted  for  the  bill.  My  own  vote  was  against  it.  This  is  a 
matter  of  little  importance ;  but  it  is  connected  with  other  cir 
cumstances,  to  which  I  will  for  a  moment  advert.  The  gentle 
men  with  whom  I  acted  on  that  occasion  had  no  doubts  of  the 
constitutional  power  of  congress  to  establish  a  national  bank  ; 
nor  had  we  any  doubts  of  the  general  utility  of  an  institution 
of  that  kind.  We  had,  indeed,  most  of  us,  voted  for  a  bank, 
at  a  preceding  session.  But  the  object  of  our  regard  was  not 
whatever  might  be  called  a  bank.  We  required  that  it  should 
be  established  on  certain  principles,  which  alone  we  deemed 
safe  and  useful,  made  subject  to  certain  fixed  liabilities,  and  so 
guarded,  that  it  could  neither  move  voluntarily,  nor  be  moved 
by  others,  out  of  its  proper  sphere  of  action.  The  bill,  when 
first  introduced,  contained  features  to  which  we  should  never 
have  assented,  and  we  accordingly  set  ourselves  to  work,  with 
a  good  deal  of  zeal,  in  order  to  effect  sundry  amendments.  In 
some  of  these  proposed  amendments,  the  chairman,  and  those 
•who  acted  with  him,  finally  concurred.  Others  they  opposed. 
The  result  was,  that  several  most  important  amendments,  as  I 
thought,  prevailed.  But  there  still  remained,  in  my  opinion, 
objections  to  the  bill,  which  justified  a  persevering  oppositiot, 
till  they  should  be  removed." 


200  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

The  defense  was  certainly  complete.  The  very  bank,  which 
the  Jackson  and  Calhoun  party  were  now  doing  their  utmost  to 
destroy,  was  their  own  offspring,  the  child  of  their  own  impor- 
tunity. They  now  maintained  that  any  national  bank  would 
be  unconstitutional ;  but  Mr.  Calhoun,  in  the  speech  here  praised 
by  Mr.  Webster,  had  defended  the  constitutionality  of  national 
banks  with  all  his  eloquence  and  logic.  Neither  Mr.  Calhoun, 
nor  the  Jackson  party,  was  in  a  position  to  be  very  grateful  for 
the  reminiscences  or  the  eulogiums  of  Mr.  Webster. 

The  truth  is,  however,  that  the  president  had  really  enter- 
tained the  dream  of  making  something  like  a  convert  of  Mr. 
Webster.  He  had  never  failed  to  treat  him  with  the  highest 
consideration.  His  attentions  to  him  personally  had  been 
marked  as  decidedly  more  than  civil.  His  consciousness  of 
great  power  in  molding  other  minds  to  his;  his  great  success 
in  th»<*  work  during  all  his  life ;  and  his  knowledge  of  the  fact, 
that  Mr.  Webster  had  never  been  a  violent  partisan,  had  fur- 
nished him  with  some  faint  hopes.  But  he  scarcely  compre- 
hended his  undertaking.  He  did  not  see,  that  Mr.  Webster's 
feebleness  of  attachment  to  party  organizations  arose  from  a 
consciousness  of  personal  power  not -to  be  overmatched  by  that 
of  General  Jackson.  He  did  not  see,  that  the  very  weakness, 
socially  considered,  was  only  a  phase  of  an  unconquerable  in- 
dependence, or  self-dependence,  of  character,  which  not  even  the 
military  president  could  bend.  The  discussion  of  the  bank 
bill  of  Mr.  Dallas,  however,  had  not  discouraged  General  Jack- 
son. It  had  passed  both  houses  of  congress  by  strong  majori- 
ties only  to  meet  the  presidential  veto  ;  and  Mr.  Webster  had 
taken  up  that  veto,  item  by  item,  showing  its  fallacies,  its  in- 
consistencies, its  shallowness  of  argument,  with  a  masterly  and 
unsparing  hand  ;  but  the  president  did  not  see,  in  all  this,  that 
there  was  no  possibility  of  winning  over  a  man,  who,  though 
ne  had  differed  from  himself  at  different  times,  thereby  gave 
10  proof  of  levity,  but  only  that  he  dared  to  differ  frcni  any 


VISIT    TO    THE    WEST.  291 

one,  from  his  party,  from  his  own  past  opinions,  if  need  be,  in 
support  of"his  most  deliberate  and  mature  judgment. 

The  mistake,  however,  was  not  that  of  General  Jackson  only, 
but  of  many  of  his  party,  and  of  not  a  few  of  those,  who  had 
acted  with  Mr.  Webster.  Some  of  the  less-informed  newspa- 
pers of  that  day,  on  both  sides,  occasionally  threw  out  signifi- 
cant hints  upon  the  subject ;  and  there  seemed  to  be  a  sort  of 
doubt  growing  up,  among  men  ignorant  of  his  true  character, 
as  to  his  future  position  as  a  politician.  Never  was  a  doubt 
more  shallow,  or  more  ungenerous.  All  the  time,  in  all  his 
course,  Mr.  Webster  had  been  as  true  as  the  star  to  his  princi- 
ples and  to  himself;  and,  though  he  was  observant  of  every 
pulsation  of  the  people  in  relation  to  the  matter,  he  was  in  no 
hurry  to  take  notice  of  it. 

During  the  recess  of  congress,  in  the  summer  of  1833,  he 
had  occasion  to  go  west  as  far  as  the  state  of  Ohio ;  and  while 
stopping  a  few  days  at  Pittsburg,  on  his  return  homeward,  he 
made  an  address  to  a  large  gathering  of  his  fellow-citizens,  at 
their  urgent  solicitation,  in  the  course  of  which  he  dropped  a 
tew  explanatory  words  not  to  be  mistaken  by  those  prepared 
to  understand  him  :  "  It  is  but  a  few  short  months,"  he  says, 
"  since  dark  and  portentous  clouds  did  hang  over  our  heavens, 
and  did  shut  out,  as  it  were,  the  sun  in  his  glory.  A  new  and 
perilous  crisis  was  upon  us.  Dangers,  novel  in  their  character, 
and  fearful  in  their  aspect,  menaced  both  the  peace  of  the  couu- 
try  and  the  integrity  of  the  constitution.  For  forty  years  our 
government  had  gone  on,  I  need  hardly  say  prosperously  and 
gloriously,  meeting,  it  is  true,  with  occasional  dissatiikction, 
and,  in  one  or  two  instances,  with  ill-concerted  resistance  to  law. 
Through  all  these  trials  it  had  successfully  passed.  But  now  a 
time  had  come  when  authority  of  law  was  opposed  by  author- 
ity of  law,  when  the  power  of  the  general  government  was  re- 
sisted by  the  arms  of  state  government,  and  when  organized 
military  force,  under  all  the  sanctions  of  state  conventions  and 
VOA.  i.  M  19 


292  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

state  laws,  was  ready  to  resist  the  collection  of  the  public  rev- 
enues, and  hurl  defiance  at  the  statutes  of  congress. 

"  Gentlemen,  this  was  an  alarming  moment.  In  common 
with  all  good  citizens,  I  felt  it  to  be  such.  A  general  anxiety 
pervaded  the  breasts  of  all  who  were,  at  home,  partaking  in 
the  prosperity,  honor,  and. happiness  which  the  country  had  en 
joyed.  And  how  was  it  abroad  1  Why,  gentlemen,  every 
intelligent  friend  of  human  liberty,  throughout  the  world,  looked 
with  amazement  at  the  spectacle  which  we  exhibited.  In 
a  day  of  unparalleled  prosperity,  after  a  half  century's  most 
happy  experience  of  the  blessings  of  our  Union  ;  when  we  had 
already  become  the  wonder  of  all  the  liberal  part  of  the  world, 
and  the  envy  of  the  illiberal ;  when  the  constitution  had  so  am- 
ply falsified  the  predictions  of  its  enemies,  and  more  than  ful- 
filled all  the  hopes  of  its  friends ;  in  a  time  of  peace,  with  an 
overflowing  treasury ;  when  both  the  population  and  the  im- 
provement of  the  country  had  outrun  the  most  sanguine  antici- 
pations— it  was  at  this  moment  that  we  showed  ourselves,  to 
the  whole  civilized  world,  as  being  apparently  on  the  eve  of 
disunion  and  anarchy,  at  the  very  point  of  dissolving,  once  and 
forever,  that  union  which  had  made  us  so  prosperous  and  so 
great.  It  was  at  this  moment  that  those  appeared  among  us, 
who  seemed  ready  to  break  up  the  national  constitution,  and 
to  scatter  the  twenty-four  states  into  twenty-four  unconnected 
communities. 

"  Gentlemen,  the  president  of  the  United  States  was,  as  it 
seemed  to  me,  at  this  eventful  crisis,  true  to  his  duty.  He 
comprehended  and  understood  the  case,  and  met  it  as  it  was 
proper  to  meet  it.  While  I  am  as  willing  as  others  to  admit 
that  the  president  has,  on  other  occasions,  rendered  important 
services  to  the  country,  and  especially  on  that  occasion  which 
has  given  him  so  much  military  renown,  I  yet  think  the  ability 
and  decision  with  which  he  rejected  the  disorganizing  doctrines 
of  nullification,  create  a  claim,  than  which  he  has  none  higher. 


SFEECH    AT    PITTSBURGH.  '203 

to  the  gratitude  of  the  country  and   the  respect  of  posterity. 
The  appearance  of  the  proclamation  of  the  10th  of  December 
inspired  me,  I  confess,  with  new  hopes  for  the  duration  of  the 
republic.     I  regarded  it  as  just,  patriotic,  able,  and  imperiously 
demanded  by  the  condition  of  the  country.     I  would  not  be 
understood  to  speak  of  particular  clauses  and  phrases  in  the 
proclamation  ;    but  I  regard  its  great  and  leading  doctrines  as 
the  true  and  only  true  doctrines  of  the  constitution.     They  con 
stitute  the  sole  ground  on  which  dismemberment  can  be  resisted. 
Nothing  else,  in  my   opinion,  can   hold  us  together.     While 
these  opinions  are  maintained,  the  Union  will  last ;  when  they 
shall  be  generally  rejected  and   abandoned,  that  Union  will  be 
at  the  mercy  of  a  temporary  majority  in  any  one  of  the  states. 
"  I  speak,  gentlemen,  on  this  subject,  without  reserve.     I 
have  not  intended  heretofore,  and  elsewhere,  and  do  not  now 
intend,  here,  to  stint  my  commendation  of  the  conduct  of  the 
president  in  regard  to  the  proclamation  and  the  subsequent 
measures.     I  have  differed  with  the  president,  as  all  know,  who 
know  anything  of  so  humble  an  individual  as  myself,  on  many 
questions  of  great  general   interest  and  importance.     I  differ 
with  him  in  respect  to  the  constitutional  power  of  internal  im- 
provements ;  I  differ  with  him  in  respect  to  the  rechartering  of 
the  bank  ;    and  I  dissent,  especially,  from  the  grounds  and  rea- 
sons on  which  he  refused  his  assent  to  the  bill  passed  by  con- 
gress for  that  purpose.    I  differ  with  him  also,  probably,  in  the 
degree  of  protection  which  ought  to  be  afforded  to  our  agricul- 
ture and  manufactures,  and  in  the  manner  in  which  it   may  be 
proper  to  dispose  of  the   public  lands.     But  all   these  di(K TVII- 
ces  afforded,  in  my  judgment,  not  the  slightest  reason  for  oppo- 
sing him  in  a  measure  of  paramount  importance,  and  at  a  mo- 
ment of  great  public  exigency.     I  sought  to  take  counsel  of 
nothing  but  patriotism,  to  feel  no  impulse  but  that  of  duty,  and 
to  yield  not  a  lame  and  hesitating,  but  a  vigorous  and  cordial, 
Bupport  to  measures,  which,  in  my  conscience,  I  believed  essen- 


^94  WEBSTER    AND    III&    MASTER-PIECES. 

tial  to  the  preservation  of  the  constitution.  It  is  true,  doubt 
less,  that  if  myself  and  others  had  surrendered  ourselves  to  a 
spirit  of  opposition,  we  might  have  embarrassed,  and  probably 
defeated  the  measures  of  the  administration.  But  in  so  doing, 
we  should,  in  my  opinion,  have  been  false  to  our  own  charac- 
ters, false  to  our  duty,  and  false  to  our  country.  It  gives  me 
the  highest  satisfaction  to  know,  that,  in  regard  to  this  subject, 
the  general  voice  of  the  country  does  not  disapprove  my  con- 
duct." 

It  is  true  in  history,  as  it  is  in  common  life,  that  a  man  of 
note  is  apt  to  receive  his  greatest  measure  of  reproach  in  the 
midst  of  his  greatest  triumphs,  as  if  Providence  intended  that 
the  one  should  so  counterbalance  the  other  as  to  keep  him 
from  vanity,  while  the  common  individual,  who  does  nothing 
to  merit  fame,  does  as  little  to  provoke  opposition,  and  so 
passes  along  through  his  existence  easily  and  smoothly.  This 
general  truth  was  exemplified,  in  another  respect,  in  the  his- 
tory of  Mr.  Webster.  Besides  being  accused,  even  by  his 
friends,  of  having  leaned  too  much  to  the  support  of  General 
Jackson,  he  was  also  denounced,  at  this  time,  as  a  consolida- 
tionist,  who  wished  that  the  general  government  should  swal- 
low up  the  powers  of  the  states.  The  shallowness  and  wick- 
edness of  this  charge  he  laid  open  in  the  address  at  Pittsburgh  : 
"  I  am  quite  aware,  gentlemen,  that  it  is  easy  for  those  who 
oppose  measures  deemed  necessary  for  the  execution  of  the 
laws,  to  raise  the  cry  of  consolidation.  It  is  easy  to  make 
charges  and  bring  general  accusations.  It  is  easy  to  call  names. 
For  one,  I  repel  all  such  imputations.  I  am  no  consolidation- 
ist.  I  disclaim  the  character  altogether,  and,  instead  of  repeat- 
ing this  general  and  vague  charge,  I  will  be  obliged  to  any  one 
to  show  how  the  proclamation,  or  the  late  law  of  congress,  or, 
Indeed,  any  measure  to  which  I  ever  gave  my  support,  tends, 
in  the  slightestest  degree,  to  consolidation.  By  consolidation 
is  understood  a  grasping  at  power,  on  behalf  of  the  general 


NOT    A    CON6OLIDATIONIST.  295 

government,  not  constitutionally  conferred.  But  the  proclama- 
tion asserted  no  new  power.  It  only  asserted  the  right  in  the 
government,  to  carry  into  effect,  in  the  form  of  law,  power 
which  it  had  exercised  for  forty  years.  I  should  oppose  any 
grasping  at  new  powers  by  congress,  as  zealously  as  the  most 
zealous.  I  wish  to  preserve  the  constitution  as  it  is,  without 
addition,  and  without  diminution,  by  one  jot  or  tittle.  For  the 
same  reason  that  I  would  not  grasp  at  powers  not  given, 
I  would  not  surrender,  nor  abandon,  powers  which  are  given. 
Those  who  have  placed  me  in  a  public  station,  placed  me  there, 
not  to  alter  the  constitution,  but  to  administer  it.  The  power 
of  change  the  people  have  retained  to  themselves.  They  can 
alter,  they  can  modify,  they  can  change  the  constitution  entirely, 
if  they  see  fit.  They  can  tread  it  under  foot,  and  make  an- 
other, or  make  no  other ;  but  while  it  remains  unaltered  by 
the  authority  of  the  people,  it  is  our  power  of  attorney,  our 
letter  of  credit,  our  credentials ;  and  we  are  to  follow  it.  and 
obey  its  injunctions,  and  maintain  its  just  powers,  to  the  best 
of  our  abilities.  1  repeat  that,  for  one,  I  seek  to  preserve  to  the 
constitution  those  precise  powers  with  which  the  people  have 
clothed  it.  While  no  encroachment  is  to  be  made  on  the  re- 
served rights  of  the  people,  or  of  the  states,  while  nothing  is  to 
be  usurped,  it  is  equally  clear  that  we  are  not  at  liberty  to  sur- 
render, either  in  fact  or  form,  any  power  or  principle  which 
the  constitution  does  actually  contain.  And  what  is  the 
ground  for  this  cry  of  consolidation1?  I  maintain  that  the 
measures  recommended  by  the  president,  and  adopted  by 
congress,  were  measures  of  self-defense.  Is  it  consolidation  to" 
execute  laws  ?  Is  it  consolidation  to  resist  the  force  that  is 
threatening  to  upturn  our  government  ?  Is  it  consolidation 
to  protect  officers,  in  the  discharge  of  their  duty,  from  courts 
and  juries  previously  sworn  to  decide  against  them  ?  Gentle- 
men, I  take  occasion  to  remark,  that,  after  much  reflection  upon 
the  subject,  and  after  all  that  has  been  said  about  the  encroach 


296 


WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 


ment  of  the  general  government  upon  the  rights  of  the  states 
1  know  of  no  one  power,  exercised  by  the  general  govern 
merit,  which  was  not,  when  that  instrument  was  adopted,  ad 
mitted  by  the  immediate  friends  and  foes  of  the  constitution  to 
have  been  conferred  upon  it  by  the  people.  I  know  of  no  one 
power,  now  claimed  or  exercised,  which  every  body  did  not 
agree,  in  1789,  was  conferred  on  the  general  government.  On 
the  contrary,  there  are  several  powers,  and  those,  too,  among 
the  most  important  for  the  interests  of  the  people,  which  were 
then  universally  allowed  to  be  conferred  on  congress  by  the 
constitution  of  the  United  States,  and  which  are  now  ingeni- 
ously doubted,  or  clamorously  denied." 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  forcible  suppression  of  nullifi- 
cation had  chafed  the  people  of  more  states  south  than  those 
of  South  Carolina.  Though  no  other  state  had  proposed  resist- 
ance, the  tariff  of  1828  was  decidedly  unpopular  in  most  of  the 
slave  states.  To  save  the  honor  of  South  Carolina,  which, 
discouraged  with  the  business  of  resistance,  and  yet  far  from 
yielding  a  voluntary  obedience  to  the  laws,  wished  for  some 
pretext  for  a  return  to  its  fealty,  Mr.  Clay,  a  southern  man  by 
birth  and  education,  but  an  American  of  the  broadest  sympa- 
thies at  heart,  proposed  a  reduction  of  the  complicated  tariff 
system  of  1828,  to  a  general  level  of  twenty  per  cent,  duties 
on  all  imports  of  every  kind  whatever.  No  one  could  com- 
plain of  this  proposal,  that  it  was  not  simple  enough  ;  but,  by 
rejecting  all  discrimination,  it  warred  upon  many  interests  of 
the  country,  while  it  over-fostered  others,  which  needed  and 
demanded  no  help  from  government.  It  was  a  mere  blind 
way  of  collecting  the  revenue,  without  encouraging  any  na- 
tional interest  whatever,  and  without  respect  to  the  bearing 
of  a  tariff  on  the  morals  of  the  people.  Spirituous  liquors, 
cards,  dice,  and  every  evil  thing,  could  come  into  the  country 
as  freely  as  books  and  bibles.  The  silks  and  satins  of  the 
rich  were  to  pay  no  more  duty  than  the  best  hemp  in  the 


JACKSON'S  TOUK  TO  THE  EAST.  297 

world,  without  which  our  shipping  would  suffer  damage,  or  the 
expensive  and  delicate  implements  of  mechanism,  which  had 
not  been  produced  among  us,  and  without  which  some  branches 
of  industry  would  be  compelled  to  close  their  operations.  We 
should  be  left  with  no  power  to  favor  the  productions  of  a 
country,  which  favored  us,  nor  to  punish  a  nation  which  might 
take  every  opportunity  to  injure  our  domestic  and  foreign 
business.  Such  a  tariff  was  particularly  offensive  to  New  Eng- 
land, and  to  the  middle  states,  which  depended  for  the  success 
of  their  manufactures  on  some  sort  of  discrimination.  A 
dead-level  tariff,  they  believed,  would  be  their  ruin ;  and  so 
they  looked  to  Mr.  Webster,  who  did  not  care  much  to  give 
South  Carolina  an  opportunity  of  evading  the  embarrassment 
and  dishonor  of  her  position,  before  she  had  had  time  to  real- 
ize and  feel  the  force  of  it,  to  stand  up  in  defense  of  the  true 
manufacturing  interests  of  his  country.  Mr.  Webster  did  not 
disappoint  this  reliance.  His  efforts  in  opposition  to  Mr.  Clay 
were  among  the  most  masterly  speeches  of  the  session. 

While  Mr.  Webster  was  on  a  second  visit  of  business  to  some 
of  the  middle  states  of  the  west,  the  president  of  the  United 
States  was  making  a  sort  of  triumphal  progress  through  New 
England,  where  he  was  overwhelmed  with  eulogies  and  honors 
from  a  people  who  felt  grateful  for  his  efforts  in  sustaining  the 
Union  and  the  constitution.  No  sooner,  however,  had  he  re- 
turned to  Washington,  than  he  began  to  open  a  war  upon  the 
bank  of  the  United  States,  an  institution  universally  respected 
by  the  very  people  whose  hospitalities  he  had  just  enjoyed ; 
and  from  the  opening  of  congress  to  the  close  of  his  second 
term,  now  just  begun,  he  carried  on  hostilities  against  the  cur 
rency  of  the  country,  which  terminated  in  the  financial  crash  of 
the  succeeding  administration.  His  first  step,  the  rashest  he 
could  have  taken,  was  the,  removal  of  all  the  moneys  of  the 
government  from  the  vaults  of  the  general  bank,  and  the  da 
positing  of  them  ;n  certain  state  banks  for  safe  keeping.  That 


208  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

is,  merely  because  he  had  the  power,  without  due  notice,  ho 
demanded  immediate  payment  to  the  government  of' the  whole 
sum  due  it  from  the  bank,  that  he  might,  if  possible,  bring 
about  the  failure  of  an  institution,  which,  to  that  day,  had  not 
only  always  met  its  liabilities  punctually,  but  frequently  aided 
the  government  in  its  necessities.  It  was  not  only  a  rash  but 
a  most  disastrous  step.  It  was  a  step  felt  to  the  extremities 
of  the  country  ;  for  the  general  bank,  on  so  sudden  a  demand, 
had  no  resource  but  to  collect,  with  equal  suddenness,  all  its 
demands  on  the  smaller  banks,  which,  in  turn,  were  compelled 
to  be  equally  abrupt  and  stringent  with  their  own  customers. 
In  this  way,  the  shock  given  by  the  president  traveled  down, 
from  bank  to  bank,  and  from  the  smaller  banks  to  the  people, 
who  at  once  felt  the  pressure  through  every  ramification  of  so- 
ciety. Its  severity  fell  mostly,  as  in  every  similar  crisis,  upon 
the  poorer  classes.  When  this  comprehensive  and  sudden  de- 
mand, which  created  all  these  multiplied  minor  demands,  had 
reached  at  last  the  thresholds  of  the  common  trader,  mechanic 
and  manufacturer,  most  of  them  found  it  difficult,  many  of 
them  impossible,  to  meet  the  unexpected  call  on  so  short  a  no- 
tice. General  compliance  was  a  thing  not  to  be  expected ; 
while  one  failure,  as  in  every  business  concatenation,  when  more 
money  is  demanded  than  had  been  provided  for,  multiplied 
itself  continuously,  till  the  whole  country  reached  the  brink 
of  universal  repudiation. 

So  reckless,  impolitic  and  portentous  had  this  step  appeared 
to  many  of  the  personal  and  political  friends  of  General  Jack- 
son, and  to  a  portion  of  his  cabinet,  that,  after  the  order 
had  been  given  by  the  president  for  the  removal  of  the 
deposits,  two  removals  from  the  office  of  secretary  of  the 
treasury  had  to  be  effected,  before  the  order  could  find  a  man 
sufficiently  servile  to  give  it  execution  :  "  The  charter  of  the 
bank  of  the  United  Suites,"  says  Mr.  Webster,  "  provided  that 
the  public  moneys  should  be  deposited  in  the  bank,  subject  to 


REMOVAL    OF    THE    DEPOSITS.  299 

removal  by  the  secretary  of  the  treasury,  on  grounds  to  be 
submitted  to  congress.  In  the  session  of  1832.  congivss  had 
passed  a  resolution,  by  a  very  large  majority,  that  the  public 
deposits  were  safe  in  the  custody  of  the  bank  of  the  United 
States.  General  Jackson,  having  applied  his  veto  to  the  bill 
for  renewing  the  charter  of  the  bank,  was  determined,  not- 
withstanding this  expression  of  confidence,  that  the  public  de- 
posits should  be  transferred  to  an  association  of  selected  state 
banks.  The  secretary  of  the  treasury  (Mr.  M'Lane),  having 
declined  to  order  the  transfer,  was  appointed  secretary  of  state, 
in  the  expectation  that  his  successor  (Mr.  Duane)  would  exe- 
cute the  president's  will  in  that  respect.  On  the  10th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1833.  an  elaborate  paper  was  read  by  GeneralJackson 
to  the  cabinet,  announcing  his  reasons  for  the  removal  of  the 
deposits,  and  appointing  the  1st  of  October,  as  the  day  when 
it  should  take  place.  On  the  21st  of  September,  Mr.  Duane 
made  known  to  the  president  his  intention  not  to  order  the  re- 
moval. He  was  dismissed  from  office  and  Mr.  Taney,  the 
present  chief  justice,  appointed  in  his  place,  by  whom  the  re- 
quisite order  for  the  removal  of  the  public  moneys  to  the  state 
banks,  was  immediately  given." 

The  battle  of  the  bank  was  now  fairly  opened ;  and  the 
president  soon  had  sufficient  occasion  to  learn  whether  Mr. 
Webster  was  a  man  to  be  bought  up  by  the  smiles  of  patron- 
izing power.  From  the  first,  Mr.  Webster  set  his  i'ace  against 
this  piece  of  political  injustice,  and  was  the  acknowledged  cham- 
pion of  the  established  policy  and  practice  of  the  government. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  struggle,  he  bore  decided  testimony  in 
relation  to  the  extent  of  the  disaster  which  the  new  policy  had 
rven  then  produced  :  "  I  agree  with  those,"  he  said, "  who  think 
that  there  is  a  severe  pressure  in  die  money  market,  and  very- 
serious  embarrassment  felt  in  all  branches  of  the  national  in- 
dustry. 1  think  this  is  not  local,  but  general;  general,  at 
least,  over  every  oart  of  the  country  where  the  cause  has  yet 
VOL.  i.  M* 


WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

begun  to  operate,  and  sure  to  become,  not  only  general,  but 
universal,  as  the  operation  of  the  cause  shall  spread.  If  evi- 
dence be  wanted,  in  addition  to  all  that  is  told  us  by  thosf 
who  know,  the  high  rate  of  interest,  now  at  twelve  per  cent.. 
JY  higher,  where  it  was  hardly  six  last  September,  the  depres- 
sion Of  all  stocks,  some  ten,  some  twenty,  some  thirty  per 
cent.,  and  the  low  prices  of  commodities,  are  proofs  abundantly 
sufficient  to  show  the  existence  of  the  pressure.  But,  sir,  labor, 
that  most  extensive  of  all  interests,  American  manual  labor, 
feels,  or  will  feel,  the  shock  more  sensibly,  far  more  sensibly, 
than  capital,  or  property  of  any  kind.  Public  works  have 
stopped,  or  must  stop  ;  great  private  undertakings,  employing 
many  hands,  have  ceased,  and  others  must  cease.  A  great 
lowering  of  the  rates  of  wages,  as  well  as  a  depreciation  of 
property,  is  the  inevitable  consequence  of  causes  now  in  full 
operation."  Next,  he  went  on  to  show,  that,  in  this  war  waged 
by  the  executive  against  the  fiscal  agent  of  the  government, 
there  was  no  recourse  but  to  congress,  which  was  bound  to  in- 
terfere, and  maintain  the  currency  and  credit  of  the  country. 

As  a  foundation  for  his  first  speech  on  the  removal  of  the 
deposits,  Mr.  Webster  had  read  a  series  of  resolutions  passed 
by  a  meeting  of  Boston  merchants  and  mechanics.  On  the 
30th  day  of  January,  Mr.  Wright,  of  New  York,  also  read  to 
the  senate  several  resolutions  passed  by  the  legislature  of  New 
York,  approving  the  removal  of  the  deposits,  and  disapproving 
of  any  bank  of  the  United  States.  In  the  course  of  the  speech 
supporting  these  resolutions,  Mr.  Wright  distinctly  announced 
that  he  was  opposed  to  the  rechartering  of  the  bank,  and  to  the 
creation  of  any  other ;  that  the  bank  had  grossly  violated  its 
charter ;  that,  however,  he  had  deeper  and  graver  reasons  tor 
his  opposition  ;  that  the  distress  of  the  community,  in  financial 
matters,  was  the  fault  of  the  bank,  and  not  of  the  removal  of 
the  deposits ;  that  he  would  sustain  the  president,  by  every 
means  in  his  pcwer.  in  his  effort  to  substitute  the  agency  of 


DEBATES  ON  THE  SUBJECT.  301 

the  state  banks  ft  r  the  bank  of  the  United  States,  as  the  fiscal 
agent  of  the  government. 

In  reply  to  these  resolutions,  and  to  the  remarks  of  Mr. 
Wright,  Mr.  Webster  delivered  his  second  speech,  near  the 
opening  of  which  he  presents  a  fine  picture  of  the  senate  in  its 
debates  on  the  subject,  and  gives  an  account  of  public  opinion 
upon  it  at  that  time  :  "  But  the  gentleman  has  discovered,  or 
he  thinks  he  has  discovered,  motives  for  the  complaints  which 
arise  on  all  sides.  It  is  all  but  an  attempt  to  bring  the  admin- 
istration into  disfavor.  This  alone  is  the  reason  why  the  re- 
moval of  the  deposits  is  so  strongly  censured  !  Sir,  the  gen- 
tleman is  mistaken.  He  does  not,  at  least  I  think  he  does  not, 
rightly  understand  the  signs  of  the  times.  The  cause  of  the 
complaint  is  much  deeper  and  stronger  than  any  mere  desire 
to  produce  political  effect.  The  gentleman  must  be  aware, 
that,  notwithstanding  the  great  vote  by  which  the  New  York 
resolutions  were  carried,  and  the  support  given  by  other  pro- 
ceedings to  the  removal  of  the  deposits,  there  are  many  as  ar- 
dent friends  of  the  president  as  are  to  be  found  anywhere,  who 
exceedingly  regret  and  deplore  the  measure.  Sir,  on  this  floor 
there  has  been  going  on  for  many  weeks  as  interesting  a  de- 
bate as  has  been  witnessed  for  twenty  years ;  and  yet  I  have 
not  heard,  among  all  who  have  supported  the  administration,  a 
single  senator  say  that  he  approved  the  removal  of  the  depos- 
its, or  was  glad  it  had  taken  place,  until  the  gentleman  from 
New  York  spoke.  I  saw  the  gentleman  from  Georgia  ap- 
proach that  point ;  but  he  shunned  direct  contact.  He  com- 
plained much  of  the  bank ;  he  insisted,  too,  on  the  power  of 
removal ;  but  I  did  not  hear  him  say  he  thought  it  a  wise  act. 
The  gentleman  from  Virginia,  not  now  in  his  seat,  also  de 
fended  the  power,  and  has  arraigned  the  bank  ;  but  has  he  said 
that  he  approved  the  measure  of  removal  ?  I  have  not  met 
with  twenty  individuals,  in  or  out  of  congress,  who  have  ex 
pressed  an  approval  of  it,  among  the  many  hundreds  whosa 


302  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER  -PIECES. 

opinions'  I  have  heard — not  twenty,  who  have  maintained  that 
it  was  a  wise  proceeding  ;  but  I  have  heard  individuals  of  am- 
ple fortune,  although  they  wholly  disapproved  the  measure,  de- 
clare, nevertheless,  that,  since  it  was  adopted,  they  would  sac- 
rifice all  they  possessed  rather  than  not  support  it.  Such  is 
the  warmth  of  party  zeal !  "  The  object  of  this  speech  was  to 
show  the  necessity  of  a  national  bank  for  the  safe  keeping  of 
the  public  moneys  ;  the  necessity  of  restoring  the  deposits  to 
the  national  bank  ;  and  the  disasters  which  would  follow  a  per- 
sistence in  the  course  of  opposition  now  set  down  as  the  estab- 
lished policy  of  the  administration. 

Mr.  Tallmadge,  of  New  York,  replied  to  Mr.  Webster,  de- 
nying, in  the  most  emphatic  manner,  the  constitutionality  of 
the  bank  of  the  United  States,  but  maintaining  the  right  of  the 
secretary  of  the  treasury  to  use  the  state  banks  as  the  fiscal 
agent  of  the  government;  and  Mr.  Webster,  at  the  opening 
of  the  session  of  the  next  day,  spoke  briefly  in  answer  to  both 
of  the  New  York  senators.  He  argued  that  the  power  to  use 
a  bank,  granted  by  Mr.  Tallmadge,  implied  the  power  to  cre- 
ate one  ;  that,  if  one  act  was  constitutional,  the  other  must  be 
also ;  and  that  the  constitutional  power  of  congress  was  no 
longer  a  debatable  question,  as  it  had  been  debated  and  deter- 
mined too  frequently  to  need  any  farther  argument:  "I  do 
not  intend  now,  Mr.  President,"  he  says,  "  to  go  into  a  regu- 
lar and  formal  argument  to  prove  the  constitutional  power  of 
congress  to  establish  a  national  bank.  That  question  has  been 
argued  a  hundred  times,  and  always  settled  the  same  way. 
The  whole  history  of  the  country,  for  almost  forty  years,  proves 
that  such  a  power  has  been  believed  to  exist.  All  previous 
congresses,  or  nearly  all,  have  admitted  or  sanctioned  it ;  the 
judicial  tribunals,  federal  and  state,  have  sanctioned  it.  The 
supreme  court  of  the  United  States  has  declared  the  constitu- 
tionality of  the  present  bank,  after  the  most  solemn  argument, 
without  a  dissenting  voice  on  the  bench.  Every  successiv* 


CONTINUATION  OF  THE  DEBATE.  303 

president  has,  tacitly  or  expressly,  admitted  the  power.  The 
present  president  has  done  this ;  he  has  informed  congress  that 
he  could  furnish  the  plan  of  a  bank,  which  should  conform  to 
the  constitution.  In  objecting  to  the  recharter  of  the  present 
bank,  he  objected  for  particular  reasons  ;  and  he  has  said  that  a 
bank  of  the  United  States  would  be  useful  and  convenient  for 
the  people."  Though  disclaiming  all  intention  of  arguing  the 
subject,  it  would  not  be  easy,  so  far  as  authority  goes,  to 
construct  a  more  perfect  argument ;  and  there  are  passages  in 
this  speech  of  such  power  of  logic  and  force  of  expression  as 
Mr.  Webster  himself  seldom  surpassed. 

The  great  struggle,  however,  was  not  closed.  On  the  21st 
d  ty  of  February,  Mr.  Forsyth,  of  Georgia,  read  to  the  senate 
a  memorial  from  Maine,  and  accompanied  the  reading  with  a 
speech,  in  which  he  declared  that  the  plan  of  the  administra- 
tion was,  to  return  to  an  exclusive  specie  currency,  first,  by 
employing  the  state  banks  instead  of  the  general  bank,  and  sec- 
ondly, by  dispensing  at  last  with  the  state  banks  themselves. 
Mr.  Webster  replied  to  Mr.  Forsyth  in  a  strain  of  invective, 
sarcasm,  ridicule  and  argument,  sound  and  irresistible  argu- 
ment, enough  to  overwhelm  a  much  abler  antagonist ;  but  Mr. 
Forsyth  stood  up  and  attempted  a  reply.  This  again  called 
out  Mr.  Webster.  On  Friday,  March  the  7th,  in  presenting  a 
memorial  from  the  building  mechanics  of  the  city  and  county 
of  Philadelphia ;  on  Tuesday,  March  18th,  on  presenting  an- 
other memorial  from  citizens  of  Boston ;  on  Friday,  March 
28th,  on  offering  another  from  citizens  of  Albany ;  and  on 
Tuesday,  April  25th,  on  reading  a  fourth  from  three  thousand 
citizens  of  Ontario  county,  New  York,  he  spoke  briefly,  in  ex- 
planation of  his  own  views  and  of  the  outraged  feelings  of  the 
whole  country.  lie  spoke  again  on  the  20th  of  May,  on  pre- 
senting to  the  senate  a  memorial  from  the  citizens  of  Columbia, 
Lancaster  county,  Pennsylvania,  and  again  on  the  3d  of  June, 
on  the  reading,  by  Mr.  McKean,  of  the  memorial  of  the  Penn 


304  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

sylvania  state  convention  ;  but  the  longest  and  ablest  of  all  his 
productions,  at  this  time,  on  the  subject  of  the  currency,  was 
his  report  from  the  committee  on  finance,  of  which  he  was 
chairman,  read  on  the  5th  of  February  of  this  year.  It  is  a 
document  worthy  of  the  frequent  perusal  of  every  statesman ; 
and  we  have  no  statesman  who  would  not  enlighten  himself 
by  pondering  deeply  on  the  positions  and  arguments  so  care- 
fully drawn  up  and  forcibly  expressed. 

His  next  effort  in  relation  to  the  currency,  which,  during  the 
second  term  of  General  Jackson's  administration,  was  the  ab- 
sorbing topic  in  the  senate,  and  in  the  house,  was  his  speech, 
delivered  on  the  18th  of  March,  on  the  presentation  of  his  own 
bill  for  continuing  the  charter  of  the  United  States  bank  for  six 
years  after  the  expiration  of  its  existing  charter ;  and  this  was 
followed,  on  the  7th  of  May,  by  a  speech  in  reply  to  the  presi- 
dent, who  had  sent  to  the  senate,  on  the  15th  of  April,  a  vio- 
lent and  somewhat  angry  protest  against  the  proceedings  of  the 
senate  in  reference  to  the  removal  of  the  deposits.  This  latter 
speech  was  regarded,  at  the  time  of  its  delivery,  by  the  best 
judges,  as  the  ablest  that  Mr.  Webster  had  ever  made  since 
his  reply  to  Hayne.  •  "  You  never,"  said  Chancellor  Kent,  in  a 
letter  of  approbation  to  the  orator, — "you  never  equaled  this 
effort.  It  surpasses  everything  in  logic,  in  simplicity,  and 
beauty,  and  energy  of  diction,  in  clearness,  in  rebuke,  in  sar- 
casm, in  patriotic  and  glowing  feeling,  in  just  and  profound  con- 
stitutional views,  in  critical  severity,  and  matchless  strength. 
It  is  worth  millions  to  our  liberties."  And  Governor  Tazewell, 
in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Tyler,  employs  equally  emphatic  language  : 
"Tel!  Webster  from  me,"  he  says,  "that  I  have  read  his  speech 
in  the  National  Intelligencer  with  more  pleasure  than  any  I 
have  lately  seen.  If  the  approbation  of  one,  who  has  not  been 
used  to  coincide  with  him  in  opinion,  can  be  grateful  to  him, 
he  has  mine  in  exlenso.  I  agree  with  him  perfectly,  and  thank 
luro  cordially  for  his  many  excellent  illustrations  of  what  I  al 


SUCCESS  OF  HIS  SPEKCHES.  305 

ways  thought  If  it  is  published  in  a  pamphlet  form,  beg  him 
to  send  rne  oiie.  I  will  have  it  bound  in  good  Russia  leather, 
and  leave  it  as  a  special  legacy  to  rny  children."  The  first 
raptures  of  admiration  may  have  done  injustice  to  other  speeches 
of  Mr.  Webster ;  but  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  this  is  one  of 
the  master-pieces  of  that  great  statesman.  As  in  his  reply  to 
liayne,  he  was  thoroughly  roused.  The  interference  of  the 
president  with  the  clear  prerogatives  of  the  senate  was  so  glar- 
ing a  breach  of  privilege,  that  it  stirred  his  indignation  to  the 
bottom  ;  and  he  spoke  with  an  earnestness,  a  sincerity,  a  sin- 
gleness and  power  of  purpose,  whose  meaning  could  not  be 
mistaken.  Not  only  was  the  whole  speech  remarkably  able, 
but  there  are  passages  in  it,  which  even  he  never  equaled. 
Guarding  himself,  near  the  beginning  of  his  speech,  against  the 
objection,  that  there  was  no  occasion  for  so  much  feeling,  that 
it  was  only  the  assertion  of  a  principle,  not  any  overt  act,  on 
the  part  of  the  president,  which  had  given  occasion  to  the  de- 
bate, he  strikes  out  into  one  of  his  boldest  strains  of  rhetoric, 
and  closes  with  a  figure,  which,  probably,  has  no  superior  in  the 
English  language  :  "The  senate  regarded  this  interposition," 
said  the  orator,  "  as  an  encroachment  by  the  executive  on  other 
branches  of  the  government ;  as  an  interference  with  the  legis- 
lative disposition  of  the  public  treasure.  It  was  strongly  and 
forcibly  urged,  yesterday,  by  the  honorable  member  from 
South  Carolina,  that  the  true  and  only  mode  of  preserving  any 
balance  of  power,  in  mixed  governments,  is  to  keep  an  exact 
balance.  This  is  very  true ;  and  to  this  end  encroachment 
must  be  resisted  at  the  first  step.  The  question  is,  therefore, 
whether,  upon  the  true  principles  of  the  constitution,  this  exer- 
cise of  power  by  the  president  can  be  justified.  Whether  the 
consequences  be  prejudicial  or  not,  if  there  be  an  illegal  exer- 
cise of  power,  it  is  to  be  resisted  in  the  proper  manner.  Even 
if  no  harm  or  inconvenience  result  from  transgressing  the  bound- 
ary, the  intrusion  is  not  to  be  suffered  to  p;iss  unnoticed. 


300  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

Every  encroachment,  great  or  small,  is  important  enough  to 
awaken  the  attention  of  those,  who  are  intrusted  with  the  pre- 
servation of  a  constitutional  government.  We  are  not  to  wait 
till  great  public  mischiefs  come,  till  the  government  is  over- 
thrown, or  liberty  itself  put  into  extreme  jeopardy.  We 
should  not  be  worthy  sons  of  our  fathers  were  we  so  to  regard 
great  questions  affecting  the  general  freedom.  Those  fathers 
accomplished  the  revolution  on  a  strict  question  of  principle. 
The  parliament  of  Great  Britain  asserted  a  right  to  tax  the  col- 
onies in  all  cases  whatsoever  ;  and  it  was  precisely  on  this  ques- 
tion that  they  made  the  revolution  turn.  The  amount  of  taxa- 
tion was  trifling,  but  the  claim  itself  was  inconsistent  with  lib- 
erty ;  and  that  was,  in  their  eyes,  enough.  It  was  against  the 
recital  of  an  act  of  parliament,  rather  than  against  any  suffering 
under  its  enactments,  that  they  took  up  arms.  They  went  to 
war  against  a  preamble.  They  fought  seven  years  against  a 
declaration.  They  poured  out  their  treasures  and  their  blood 
like  water,  in  a  contest  against  an  assertion,  which  those  less 
sagacious  and  not  so  well  schooled  in  the  principles  of  civil  lib- 
erty would  have  regarded  as  barren  phraseology,  or  mere  pa- 
rade of  words.  They  saw  in  the  claim  of  the  British  parlia- 
ment a  seminal  principle  of  mischief,  the  germ  of  unjust  power ; 
they  detected  it,  dragged  it  forth  from  underneath  its  plausible 
disguises,  struck  at  it ;  nor  did  it  elude  either  their  steady  eye 
or  their  well-directed  blow  till  they  had  extirpated  and  de- 
stroyed it,  to  the  smallest  fibre.  On  this  question  of  principle, 
while  actual  suffering  was  yet  afar  off,  they  raised  their  flag 
against  a  power,  to  which,  for  purposes  of  foreign  conquest  and 
subjugation,  Rome,  in  the  height  of  her  glory,  is  not  to  be  com- 
pared ;  a  power  which  has  dotted  over  the  surface  of  the  whole 
globe  with  her  possessions  and  military  posts,  whose  morning 
drum-beat,  following  the  sun,  and  keeping  company  with  the 
hours,  circles  the  earth  with  one  contiguous  and  unbroken  strain 
of  the  martial  airs  of  England." 


CLOSE    OF    JACKSON'S    ADMINISTRATION.  307 

The  ad  ministration  of  General  Jackson  was  now  rapidly 
coming  to  a  close.  The  great  battle  of  the  currency  was  now 
fought.  The  results  of  the  financial  policy  of  the  administra- 
tion were  now  universally  felt  and  acknowledged  to  be  evil  and 
only  evil.  The  country  stood  on  the  borders  of  universal  bank- 
ruptcy. The  general  election  was  approaching,  when  Jackson's 
successor  was  to  be  chosen ;  and,  in  the  twenty -fourth  congress, 
while  the  country  was  preparing  for  the  presidential  campaign, 
there  was  but  little  left  for  Mr.  Webster.  He  had  done  his  duty. 
Pie  hud  done  it  nobly  and  hi  a  most  masterly  manner.  He 
now  felt  that  he  could  leave  the  result  of  his  own  labors  with 
the  people  ;  though  he  undoubtedly  believed  that  Jackson's  suc- 
cessor would  be  the  man  whom  the  president  had  adopted  for 
this  high  honor.  Three  facts,  hi  spite  of  all  the  gigantic  efforts 
of  Mr.  Webster,  and  of  those  who  acted  with  him,  were  enough 
to  give  the  election  to  Mr.  Van  Buren.  In  the  first  place,  he 
carried  with  him  the  marked  arid  special  approbation  of  the  reti- 
ring president,  who,  notwithstanding  the  disastrous  nature  and 
results  of  his  experiments  as  a  civilian,  was  all  the  more  popu- 
lar with  the  vociferous  and  headlong,  all  over  the  country,  of 
his  party.  In  the  second  place,  the  people  had  been  made  to 
believe,  to  a  remarkable  extent,  that  the  now  general  and  ac- 
knowledged distress  of  the  country  was  owing,  not  to  the  blun- 
ders and  recklessness  of  the  executive,  but  to  the  efforts  of  the 
expiring  bank  of  the  United  States,  which  wished  to  throw  dis- 
credit, by  way  of  revenge,  upon  the  president  for  his  opposi- 
tion to  the  renewal  of  its  charter.  Lastly,  the  rejection  of  Mr. 
Van  Buren,  as  minister  to  England,  when  he  was  already  there, 
was  regarded  as  political  persecution  of  a  most  extraordinary 
character ;  and  not  only  the  party,  but  thousands  of  moderate 
men  who  vote  according  to  their  current  views  at  the  time  of 
an  election,  looked  upon  Mr.  Van  Buren  as  a  sort  of  martyr. 
Mr.  Van  Buren,  therefore,  was  chosen  to  succeeed  General 
Jackson. 

VOL.  i,  20 


308  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

During  the  remainder  of  General  Jackson's  term,  howtvc-r, 
Mr.  Webster  continued  to  be  the  leader  of  the  opposition  in  the 
senate,  though  Mr.  Clay  must  be  confessed  as  equally  popular, 
and  perhaps  equally  deserving,  before  the  country.  There  was 
no  longer  any  occasion  for  great  efforts  on  the  subject  of  the 
currency.  Some  other  topics,  not  without  their  interest, 
claimed  the  attention  of  Mr.  Webster.  On  the  12th  of  Janu- 
ary, 1835,  he  delivered  an  elaborate  speech  on  the  bill  granting 
indemnity  to  citizens  of  the  United  States  for  French  spolia- 
tions on  American  commerce  prior  to  1800 ;  but  his  views  on 
that  subject  had  been  long  before  the  public,  and,  consequently, 
the  speech  now  made  did  not  particularly  affect  his  reputation. 
On  the  16th  of  February,  of  the  same  year,  he  delivered  an- 
other speech  of  more  general  popularity.  It  was  in  regard  to 
the  appointing  and  removing  power  exercised  jointly  by  the 
president  and  senate.  The  administration  had  set  up  some 
strange  pretensions  to  prerogative  unknown  to  the  constitution, 
and  unknown  to  the  previous  practice  of  the  government.  A 
bill  was  brought,  into  the  senate,  entitled  "  an  act  to  repeal  the 
first  and  second  sections  of  the  act  to  limit  the  term  of  service 
of  certain  officers  therein  named,"  the  express  object  of  which 
was  to  secure  the  reduction  of  executive  patronage  and  influ- 
ence. This  was  a  topic  that  touched  Mr.  Webster's  heart. 
He  had  seen  so  many  encroachments  of  late,  on  the  powers  of 
the  senate,  and  on  the  powers  of  congress,  that  he  felt  like  doing 
something  to  render  the  evil  less  possible  in  time  to  come. 
His  speech  on  the  subject  was  very  able ;  and  it  did  not  a  little 
toward  giving  the  last  blow  to  a  falling  administration,  and  pre- 
paring the  public  for  that  remarkable  revolution  that  succeeded. 

But  the  greatest  and  heaviest  blow  ever  given  to  the  admin- 
istration of  General  Jackson,  by  one  of  its  opponents,  was  the 
speech  of  Mr.  Webster  to  the  merchants  of  New  York,  deliv- 
eied  in  Niblo's  Saloon,  on  the  15th  of"  March,  1837,  eleven 
days  after  the  accession  of  Mr.  Van  Buren.  The  blow  was 


OPENING    OF    VAN    BUREN's    ADMINISTRATION.  309 

struck,  not  because  that  administration  itself  was  any  longer 
of  any  consequence  to  the  public,  but  because  it  had  been 
adopted,  formally  and  in  words,  by  Mr.  Van  Buren  as  the 
model  of  his  own  administration.  It  was,  therefore,  only  an- 
other engagement  in  the  memorable  war  between  the  govern- 
ment and  the  currency  ;  and  it  certainly,  in  any  point  of  light 
in  which  it  can  be  viewed,  was  a  victory.  It  is  one  of  th« 
soundest,  ablest,  and  most  eloquent  of  all  the  great  statesman's 
speeches.  It  was  a  review  of  the  entire  course  of  General 
Jackson  as  president  of  the  republic.  Though  searching  and 
caustic,  it  was  temperate  in  style,  moderate  in  spirit,  even 
charitable  to  the  infirmities  of  human  nature,  but  inexpressibly 
severe  in  the  matter  and  manner  of  its  logic.  It  is  the  best 
history  of  General  Jackson's  administration  now  in  print ;  for, 
while  the  art  of  the  orator  is  always  to  be  suspected,  it 
narrates  and  states  facts  with  the  precision  and  candor  of  a 
historian. 

The  first  official  act  of  Mr.  Van  Buren  was  to  call  an  extra 
session  of  congress  to  take  into  consideration  the  financial  em- 
barrassments of  the  country.  This  was  an  open  confession  of 
what  the  administration  of  General  Jackson  had  continually 
and  strenuously  denied.  It  was  a  confession  that  the  country, 
the  whole  country,  not  any  particular  part  or  parts  of  it,  was 
in  a  state  of  pecuniary  suffering.  It  was  a  confession,  too,  of 
great  political  value  to  the  party  of  the  opposition,  who  did 
not  fail  to  point  the  country  to  the  state  of  prosperity  almost 
unexampled  in  the  history  of  the  republic,  which  immediately 
preceded  General  Jackson's  war  upon  the  currency.  It  was  a 
confession,  however,  which  Mr.  Van  Buren,  in  the  exercise  of 
that  peculiar  sagacity  which  characterizes  him,  did  not  hesitate 
to  make,  because,  should  his  term  of  office  close  unhappily,  he 
could  the  more  readily  refer  his  failure  to  the  disastrous  cir- 
cumstances under  which  it  commenced.  Should  his  adminis- 
tration, on  the  other  hand,  prove  successful,  it  would  be  easv 


310  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

for  him,  and  for  his  partisans,  to  claim  the  more  credit  to  his 
statesmanship,  by  as  much  as  the  end  of  his  term  sho  ild  ex 
ceed  in  prosperity  its  beginning. 

The  extra  session  met  in  the  month  of  September,  1837  ; 
and  it  was  here  that  congress  first  grappled  with  the  sub-treas- 
ury scheme,  which  was  brought  forward  by  Mr.  Van  Buren  as 
a  means  of  saving  the  country  from  the  financial  embarrass- 
ments brought  upon  it  by  the  blunders  and  obstinacy  of  the 
preceding  administration.  Those  embarrassments  had  now 
become  insupportable.  In  the  month  of  May  previous,  nearly 
all  the  banks  in  the  country  had  simultaneously  suspended  spe- 
cie payments.  The  banks  of  deposit,  in  which  were  lodged 
the  funds  of  the  United  States  treasury,  were  among  the  very 
first  to  join  in  this  act  of  suspension  ;  and  this  at  once  involved 
the  government  in  the  difficulty.  It  had  been  customary  for 
the  government  to  meet  its  daily  wants  by  issuing  drafts  upon 
the  banks  of  deposit,  which,  heretofore,  had  met  these  drafts, 
either  by  paying  out  their  own  bills,  or  in  gold  and  silver. 
Now,  however,  the  holder  of  a  draft  drawn  by  the  secretary 
of  the  treasury  of  the  government  of  the  United  States,  which 
any  one  would  suppose  should  be  good  for  its  own  orders,  could 
get  nothing  but  the  notes  of  certain  state  banks,  which  had  re- 
fused to  meet  them  on  demand.  That  is,  the  government 
owed  a  debt  •to-day,  and  the  only  satisfaction  it  could  give  its 
creditor,  was  an  order  on  a  private  corporation,  which  met  the 
order  only  with  a  confession  of  inability  of  paying  it  to-day, 
but  with  a  promise  to  pay  it  to-day  (for  bank  notes  are  made 
payable  on  demand)  when  all  parties  understood  the  insincerity 
and  comparative  worthlessness  of  that  promise.  In  other 
words,  the  government  of  the  United  States  had  become  insol- 
vent ;  and  the  question  of  course  was,  on  the  opening  of  the 
extra  session  of  congress,  how  to  restore  the  solvency  and  credit 
of  the  country. 

This  question  was  met,  on  the  part  of  the  administration. 


SUB-TREASURY    SYSTEM.  311 

first,  by  withholding  from  the  states  the  fourth  installment  of 
the  surplus  revenue,  and  secondly,  by  the  proposition  of  the 
sub-treasury  scheme,  which  was  a  system  of  keeping  and  dis- 
bursing the  funds  of  the  general  government,  without  the  inter- 
vention  of  any  bank  or  banks.  Both  these  measures  were 
opposed  by  Mr.  Webster.  He  thought  that  the  withholding 
of  the  surplus  revenue  from  the  states,  according  to  the  prom- 
ise of  the  government,  would  rather  increase  than  allay  the 
panic  now  fallen  upon  the  country  ;  and  to  the  sub-treasury 
system,  he  opposed  a  series  of  objections,  in  a  speech  delivered 
on  the  28th  of  September,  1837,  which  reexamined  the  entire 
subject  of  the  currency  from  the  beginning  of  the  government. 
No  better  history  of  the  currency  is  extant  than  that  contained 
in  the  exordium  of  this  great  speech :  "  The  government  of 
the  United  States,"  says  the  orator, "  completed  the  fbrth-eighth 
year  of  its  existence,  under  its  present  constitution,  on  the  third 
day  of  March  last.  During  this  whole  period,  it  has  felt  itself 
bound  to  take  proper  care  of  the  currency  of  the  country  ; 
and  no  administration  has  admitted  this  obligation  more  clearly 
or  more  frequently  than  the  last.  For  the  fulfillment  of  this 
acknowledged  duty,  as  well  as  to  accomplish  other  useful  pur- 
poses, a  national  bank  has  been  maintained  for  forty  out  of 
these  forty-eight  years.  Two  institutions  of  this  kind  have  been 
created  by  law;  one  commencing  in  1791,  and  being  limited 
to  twenty  years,  expiring  in  1811;  the  other  commencing 
in  1816,  with  a  like  term  of  duration,  and  ending,  therefore,  in 
1836.  Both  these  institutions,  each  in  its  time,  accomplished 
their  purposes,  so  far  as  the  currency  was  concerned,  to  the 
general  satisfaction  of  the  country  Before  the  last  bank  ex- 
pired, it  had  the  misfortune  to  incur  the  enmity  of  the  late  ad- 
ministration. I  need  not,  at  present,  speak  of  the  causes  of  this 
hostility.  My  purpose  only  requires  a  statement  of  that  fact, 
as  an  important  one  in  the  chain  of  occurrences.  The  late 
president's  dissatisfaction  with  the  bank  was  intimated  in  his 


512  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

first  annual  message,  that  is  to  say,  in  1829.  But  the  bans 
stood  very  well  with  the  country,  the  president's  known  and 
growing  hostility  notwithstanding,  and  in  1832,  four  years  be- 
fore its  charter  was  to  expire,  both  houses  of  congress  passed 
a  bill  for  its  continuance,  there  being  in  its  favor  a  large  ma- 
jority  of  the  senate,  and  a  larger  majority  of  the  house  of  rep- 
resentatives. The  bill,  however,  was  negatived  by  the  presi- 
dent. In  1833,  by  an  order  of  the  president,  the  public  mo- 
neys were  removed  from  the  custody  of  the  bank,  and  were 
deposited  with  certain  select  state  banks.  This  removal  was 
accompanied  with  the  most  confident  declarations  and  assu- 
rances, put  forth  in  every  form,  by  the  president  and  the  secre 
tary  of  the  treasury,  that  these  state  banks  would  not  only 
prove  safe  depositories  of  the  public  money,  but  that  they 
would  also  furnish  the  country  with  as  good  a  currency  as  it 
ever  had  enjoyed,  and  probably  a  better  ;  and  would  also  ac- 
complish all  that  could  be  wished  in  regard  to  domestic  ex- 
changes. The  substitution  of  state  banks  for  a  national  insti- 
tution, for  the  discharge  of  these  duties,  was  that  operation 
which  has  become  known,  and  is  likely  to  be  long  remembered, 
as  the  'Experiment.' 

"  For  some  years,  all  was  said  to  go  on  extremely  well,  al- 
though it  seemed  plain  enough  to  a  great  part  of  community, 
that  the  system  was  radically  vicious  ;  that  its  operations  were 
all  inconvenient,  clumsy,  and  wholly  inadequate  to  the  pro- 
posed ends ;  and  that,  sooner  or  later,  there  must  be  an  explo- 
sion. The  administration,  however,  adhered  to  its  experiment. 
The  more  it  was  complained  of  by  the  people,  the  louder  it  was 
praised  by  the  administration.  Its  commendation  was  one  of 
the  standing  topics  of  all  official  communications;  and  in  his 
last  message,  in  December,  1836,  the  late  president  was  more 
than  usually  emphatic  upon  the  great  success  of  his  attempts 
to  improve  the  currency,  and  the  happy  results  of  the  experi- 
ment upon  the  important  business  of  exchange. 


THE    ADMINISTRATION    IN    TROUBLE.  313 

"  But  a  reverse  was  at  hand.  The  ripening  glories  of  the 
experiment  were  soon  to  meet  a  dreadful  blighting.  In  the 
early  part  of  May  last,  these  banks  all  stopped  payment.  This 
event,  of  course,  produced  great  distress  in  the  country,  and  it 
produced  also  singular  embarrassment  to  the  administration. 
The  present  administration  was  then  only  two  months  old ; 
but  it  had  already  become  formally  pledged  to  maintain  the 
policy  of  that  which  had  gone  before  it.  The  president  had 
avowed  his  purpose  of  treading  in  the  footsteps  of  his  prede- 
cessor. Here,  then,  was  the  difficulty.  Here  was  a  political 
knot,  to  be  either  untied  or  cut.  The  experiment  had  failed, 
and  failed,  as  it  was  thought,  so  utterly  and  hopelessly,  that  it 
could  not  be  tried  again. 

"What,  then,  was  to  be  done?  Committed  against  a  bank 
of  the  United  States  in  the  strongest  manner,  and  the  substi- 
tute, from  which  so  much  was  expected,  having  disappointed  all 
hopes,  what  was  the  administration-to  do  ?  Two  distinct  classes 
of  duties  had  been  performed,  in  times  past,  by  the  bank  of  the 
United  States ;  one  more  immediately  to  the  government,  the 
other  to  the  community.  The  first  was  the  safe-keeping  and 
the  transfer,  when  required,  of  the  public  moneys ;  the  other, 
the  supplying  of  a  sound  and  convenient  paper  currency,  of 
equal  credit  all  over  the  country,  and  everywhere  equivalent  to 
specie,  and  the  giving  of  most  important  facilities  to  the  opera- 
tions of  exchange.  These  objects  were  highly  important,  and 
their  perfect  accomplishment  by  the  'experiment'  had  been 
promised  from  the  first  The  state  banks,  it  was  declared, 
could  perform  all  these  duties,  and  should  perform  them.  But 
the  'experiment'  came  to  a  dishonored  end  in  the  early  part 
of  last  May.  The  deposit  banks,  with  the  others,  stopped  pay 
ment.  They  could  not  render  back  the  deposits ;  and  so  far 
from  being  able  to  furnish  a  general  currency,  or  to  assist  ex 
changes,  (purposes,  indeed,  which  they  never  had  fulfilled  with 
any  success,)  their  paper  became  immediately  depreciated,  even 


314  WEBSTER,    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES 

in  its  local  circulation.  What  course,  then,  was  the  admini* 
tration  now  to  adopt  ?  Why,  sir,  it  is  plain  that  it  had  but  one 
alternative.  It  must  either  return  to  the  former  practice  of  the 
government,  take  the  currency  into  its  own  hands,  and  main- 
tain it,  as  well  as  provide  for  the  safe  keeping  of  the  public 
money  by  some  institution  of  its  own ;  or  else,  adopting  some 
new  mode  of  merely  keeping  the  public  money,  it  must  aban- 
don all  further  care  over  currency  and  exchange.  One  of  these 
courses  became  inevitable.  The  administration  had  no  other 
choice.  The  state  banks  could  be  no  longer  tried,  with  the 
opinion  which  the  administration  now  entertained  of  them  ; 
and  how  else  could  anything  be  done  to  maintain  the  cur- 
rency ?  In  no  way,  but  by  the  establishment  of  a  national 
institution. 

"  There  was  no  escape  from  this  dilemma.  One  course  was, 
to  go  back  to  that  which  the  party  had  so  much  condemned  ; 
the  other,  to  give  up  the  whole  duty,  and  leave  the  currency 
to  its  fate.  Between  these  two,  the  administration  found  itself 
absolutely  obliged  to  decide ;  and  it  has  decided,  and  decided 
boldly.  It  has  decided  to  surrender  the  duty,  and  abandon  the 
constitution.  That  decision  is  before  us,  in  the  message,  and 
in  the  measures  now  under  consideration.  The  choice  has  been 
made ;  and  that  choice,  in  my  opinion,  raises  a  question  of  the 
utmost  importance  to  the  people  of  this  country,  both  for  the 
present  and  all  future  time.  That  question  is,  Whether  con- 
gress has,  or  ought  to  have,  any  duty  to  perform,  in  relation 
to  the  currency  of  the  country,  beyond  the  mere  regulation  of 
the  gold  and  silver" 

This  speech  of  Mr.  Webster  was  not  only  very  able ;  but 
it  produced  a  profound  impression  on  the  senate,  and  on  the 
country.  He  maintained,  in  opposition  to  the  message  of  the 
president,  that  it  was  incumbent  on  congress,  besides  keeping 
and  disbursing  the  public  money,  to  provide  for  a  sound  and 
safe  currencv  for  the  people ;  and  such  was  the  weight  of  his 


THE    DOMESTIC    SLAVE-TRADE.  3  If) 

several  argun  ents  and  illustrations,  in  support  of  his  proposi- 
tion, that  the  recommendation  of  the  president  failed  to  be- 
come a  law.  The  first  step,  therefore,  of  the  new  administra- 
tion was  a  failure. 

One  of  the  first  topics  that  engaged  the  attention  of  Mr. 
Webster,  at  the  regular  session  of  congress  of  1837-8,  was 
that  of  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia.  On  the  27th  of 
December,  1837,  a  number  of  resolutions  were  read  to  the 
senate  by  Mr.  Calhoun  on  this  subject,  the  fifth  of  which  was 
expressed  in  the  following  language :  "  Resolved,  That  the 
intermeddling  of  any  state,  or  states,  or  their  citizens,  to  abol- 
ish slavery  in  this  district,  or  any  of  the  territories,  on  the 
ground,  or  under  the  pretext,  that  it  is  immoral  or  sinful,  or 
the  passage  of  any  act  or  measure  of  congress  with  that  view, 
would  be  a  direct  and  dangerous  attack  on  the  institutions  of 
all  the  slaveholding  states."  The  resolutions  had  been  quite 
generally  discussed,  when,  on  the  10th  of  January,  1838,  Mr. 
Clay  offered  a  substitute  for  Mr.  Calhoun's  fifth  resolution, 
which  was  couched  in  the  following  terms  :  "  Resolved,  That 
the  interference,  by  the  citizens  of  any  of  the  states,  with  the 
view  to  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  this  district,  is  endangering 
the  rights  and  security  of  the  people  of  this  district ;  and  that 
any  act  or  measure  of  congress,  designed  to  abolish  slavery  in 
this  district,  would  be  a  violation  of  the  faith  implied  in  the 
cessions  by  the  states  of  Virginia  and  Maryland,  a  just  cause 
of  alarm  to  the  people  of  the  slaveholding  states,  and  have  a 
direct  and  inevitable  tendency  to  disturb  and  endanger  the 
Union."  Mr.  Clay  supported  his  substitute  by  a  speech,  which 
was  followed  by  a  brief  one  from  Mr.  Webster.  He  had  be- 
fore, on  the  16th  of  March,  1836,  on  presenting  several  peti- 
tions praying  for  the  abolition  of  the  domestic  slave-trade 
within  the  district,  expressed  his  views  in  relation  to  the  power 
of  congress  over  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia  in  a  very 
plain  and  emphatic  manner :  "  I  have  often,"  he  then  said, 

VOL.   I.  N 


316  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

"  expressed  the  opinion,  that  over  slavery,  as  it  exists  in  the 
states,  this  government  has  no  control  whatever.  It  is  entirely 
and  exclusively  a  state  concern.  And  while  it  is  clear  that  con- 
gress has  no  direct  power  over  the  subject,  it  is  our  duty  to 
take  care  that  the  authority  of  this  government  is  not  brought 
to  bear  upon  it  by  any  indirect  interference  whatever.  It  must 
be  left  to  the  states,  to  the  course  of  things,  and  to  those  causes 
over  which  this  government  has  no  control.  All  this,  in  my 
opinion,  is  in  the  clear  line  of  our  duty.  On  the  other  hand, 
believing  that  congress  has  constitutional  power  over  slavery,  and 
the  trade  in  slaves,  within  the  district,  I  think  petitions  on  those 
subjects,  respectfully  presented,  ought  to  be  respectfully  re- 
ceived, and  respectfully  considered." 

These  had  always  been  Mr.  Webster's  opinions  on  the  sub- 
ject. They  had  been  the  opinions  of  the  country  and  of  the 
government.  So  early  as  1809,  on  the  9th  of  January,  the 
house  of  representatives  had  resolved,  "  that  the  committee  on 
the  District  of  Columbia  be  instructed  to  take  into  considera- 
tion the  laws  within  the  district  in  respect  to  slavery  ;  that  they 
inquire  into  the  slave-trade  as  it  exists  in,  and  is  carried  on 
through,  the  district ;  and  that  they  report  to  the  house  such 
amendments  to  the  existing  laws  as  shall  seem  to  them  to  be 
just."  The  same  body,  at  the  same  time,  resolved,  "  that  the 
committee  be  further  instructed  to  inquire  into  the  expediency  of 
providing  by  law  for  the  gradual  abolition  of  slavery  within  the 
district,  in  such  manner  that  the  interest  of  no  individual  shall 
be  injured  thereby."  In  the  month  of  March,  1816,  the  sub- 
ject had  been  again  introduced  by  Mr.  Randolph,  of  Virginia, 
when,  at  his  motion,  it  was  resolved,  "  that  a  committee  be  ap- 
pointed to  inquire  into  the  existence  of  an  inhuman  and  illegal 
traffic  in  slaves  carried  on  in  and  through  the  District  of  Co- 
lumbia, and  to  report  whether  any,  and  what,  measures  are  ne- 
cessary for  putting  a  stop  to  the  same." 

The  steps  thu?  -;arly  taken,  which  had  so  clearly  recognized 


SLAVERY    IN    liiE    DISTRICT.  311 

the  power  of  congress  over  slvavery  in  the  district,  were  well 
known  to  Mr.  Webster  ;  and  on  these,  as  well  as  on  the  grants 
of  cession  by  which  the  territory  was  given  to  the  United  States, 
he  based  an  argument  in  favor  of  the  constitutional  power  of 
congress  over  this  subject,  and  which  has  never  been  and  never 
can  be  answered.  In  return  for  his  efforts  in  the  cause  of  free- 
dom, he  was  taunted  by  Mr.  King,  of  Alabama,  with  having 
made  himself  the  head  of  the  abolition  party  ;  but  this  did  not 
daunt  Mr.  Webster,  or  turn  him  from  his  integrity,  or  his 
purpose.  He  went  directly  forward,  defended  the  rights  of  the 
petitioners,  maintained  the  exclusive  power  of  congress  to  legis- 
late on  all  subjects  touching  the  District  of  Columbia,  slavery 
as  well  as  others,  and  spurned  the  sneers  of  southern  senators ; 
and  he  thus  continued  to  maintain  his  ground,  till  the  subject 
was  again  brought  forward  by  Mr.  Calhoun,  and  modified  by 
Mr.  Clay,  at  the  time  now  under  consideration.  His  opinion, 
as  held  at  this  time,  is  best  conveyed  in  his  own  language.  "I 
cannot  concur,"  he  says,  speaking  of  Mr.  Clay's  substitute, 
"  in  this  resolution.  I  do  not  know  any  matter  of  fact,  or  any 
ground  of  argument,  on  which  this  affirmation  of  plighted  faith 
can  be  sustained.  I  see  nothing  by  which  congress  has  tied  up 
its  hands,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  so  as  to  put  its  clear  con- 
stitutional power  beyond  the  exercise  of  its  own  discretion.  I 
have  carefully  examined  the  acts  of  cession  by  the  states,  the 
act  of  congress,  the  proceedings  and  history  of  the  times,  and  I 
find  nothing  to  lead  me  to  doubt  that  it  was  the  intention  of 
all  parties  to  leave  this,  like  other  subjects  belonging  to  legis- 
lation for  the  ceded  territory,  entirely  to  the  discretion  and 
wisdom  of  congress."  He  goes  on  to  establish  this  opinion  by 
a  most  conclusive  argument,  and  then  brings  the  opposite  view 
into  disfavor  by  successfully  applying  to  it  the  reductio  ad  ab- 
surdum :  "  If  the  assertion  contained  in  this  resolution  be 
true,"  he  says,  "  a  very  strange  result,  as  it  seems  to  rne,  must 
follow.  The  resolution  affirms  that  the  faith  of  congress  is 


31S  WEBSTER    AND    oIS    MA&TER-PIECES. 

pledged,  indefinitely.  It  makes  no  limitation  of  time  ur  cir- 
cumstancc.  If  this  be  so,  then  it  is  an  obligation  that  binds  us 
forever,  as  much  as  if  it  were  one  of  the  prohibitions  of  the  con- 
stitution itself.  And  at  all  times  hereafter,  even  -if,  in  the 
course  of  their  history,  availing  themselves  of  events,  or  chang- 
ing their  views  of  policy,  the  states  themselves  should  make 
provision  for  the  emancipation  of  their  slaves,  the  existing  state 
of  things  could  not  be  changed,  nevertheless,  in  this  district. 
It  does  really  seem  to  me,  that,  if  this  resolution,  in  its 
terms,  be  true,  though  slavery  in  every  other  part  of  the  world 
be  abolished,  yet  in  the  metropolis  of  this  great  republic  it  is 
established  in  perpetuity.  This  appears  to  me  to  be  the  result 
of  the  doctrine  of  plighted  faith,  as  stated  in  the  resolution." 

Mr.  Buchanan  replied  to  Mr.  Webster ;  and  Mr.  Webster 
rejoined,  maintaining  with  still  greater  force  of  expression  his 
original  position ;  but  it  was  not  till  he  rose  to  reply  to  Mr. 
Clay,  who,  after  Mr.  Buchanan,  had  commented  with  some  se- 
verity upon  Mr.  Webster,  that  the  great  orator  gave  complete- 
ness to  his  argument.  Thus  called  out.  there  that  argument 
now  stands,  the  ablest  ever  delivered  on  the  subject ;  and  every 
man,  who  has  since  seen  fit  to  misunderstand  Mr.  Webster,  on 
the  subject  of  slavery,  is  bound  to  read  it,  and  ponder  it  well, 
before  he  allows  himself  to  ascribe  to  Mr.  Webster  his  position 
in  relation  to  this  question. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  follow  out  in  detail  all  that  Mr. 
Webster  said  and  did,  during  the  remainder  of  Mr.  Van  Bu 
ren's  administration,  on  this  and  other  important  subjects.  Tie 
was  still  chiefly  engaged,  as  were  the  senate  and  the  country, 
on  topics  connected  with  the  currency.  The  administration 
of  Mr.  Van  Buren,  indeed,  may  be  regarded  in  history  as  an 
unsuccessful  attempt  to  relieve  itself,  and  the  country,  of  the 
financial  evils  brought  upon  it  by  the  preceding  administration; 
and  in  every  effort  made  to  better  the  condition  of  the  national 
finances,  Mr.  Webster  took,  on  behalf  of  the  opposition,  the 


SPEECH    ON    THE    SUB-TREASURY.  319 

leading  part.  On  the  17th  of  January,  1838,  he  spoke  at 
some  length  en  the  affairs  of  the  G)mmon  wealth  Bank  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, one  of  the  deposit  banks,  whose  bills  had  become 
greatly  depreciated ;  on  the  28th  of  January,  1838,  he  ad- 
dressed the  senate  in  favor  of  the  right  of  preemption  to  actual 
settlers  on  the  public  lands  ;  and  on  the  31st  of  January,  1838, 
he  delivered  his  speech  on  the  sub-treasury  system,  as  a  sys- 
tem, putting  it  to  the  severest  test  it  had  ever  met  with  in  elo- 
quence or  argument.  But  it  was  not  till  the  12th  of  March, 
1838,  that  he  made  his  most  elaborate,  celebrated,  and  able 
speech  on  this  subject.  It  was  undoubtedly  the  ablest  ever 
made,  upon  the  subject  of  the  regulation  of  the  currency,  in  or 
out  of  congress.  It  abounds  with  tacts,  illustrations,  arguments, 
repartees,  figures  of  speech  of  the  most  striking  character,  and 
everything,  in  matter  and  manner,  in  form  and  ornament,  that 
could  possibly  be  pressed  into  the  service  of  his  main  object. 
That  object  was  the  defeat  of  the  sub-treasury  scheme,  and  a 
thorough  exposition  of  the  entire  policy,  in  all  its  magnitude 
and  mischief,  of  the  current  and  preceding  administrations.  No 
person  can  obtain  an  adequate  idea  of  the  speech  without  a  pe- 
rusal of  it ;  but  there  are  passages  in  it,  which,  whether  read 
in  connection  or  separately,  will  never  cease  to  be  admired. 
As  a  specimen  of  the  orator's  powers  of  ridicule,  when  he 
wished  to  indulge  in  it,  his  laughable  reference  to  the  over- 
vaunted  independence  of  General  Jackson,  will  never  fail  to 
furnish  to  the  literary  world  both  instruction  and  amusement : 
"  The  present  chief  magistrate  of  the  country,"  he  says,  "  was 
a  member  of  this  body  in  1828.  He  and  the  honorable  mem- 
ber from  Carolina  were,  at  that  time,  exerting  their  united 
forces  to  the  utmost,  in  order  to  bring  about  General  Jackson's 
election.  Did  they  work  thus  zealously  together  for  the  same 
ultimate  end  and  purpose?  Or  did  they  mean  merely  to 
change  the  government,  and  then  each  to  look  out  for  himself? 
Mr.  Van  Buren  voted  for  the  tariff  bill  of  that  year,  commonly 


320  WEBSTER    AX-D    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

called  the  '  bill  of  abominations  ' ;  but.  very  luckily,  and  in  ex 
tremely  good  season,  instructions  for  that  vote  happened  to- 
come  from  Albany  !  The  vote,  therefore,  could  be  given,  and 
the  member  giving  it  could  not  possibly  thereby  give  offense 
tc  any  gentleman  of  the  state-rights  party,  who  acknowledge 
the  duty  of  obeying  instructions. 

a  Sir,  I  will  not  do  gentlemen  Injustice.  Those  who  belonged 
to  tariff  states,  as  they  are  called,  and  who  supported  General 
Jackson  for  the  presidency,  did  not  intend  thereby  to  overthn  >w 
the  protective  policy.  They  only  meant  to  make  General 
Jackson  president,  and  to  come  into  power  along  with  him. 
As  to  ultimate  objects,  each  had  his  own.  All  could  agree, 
however,  in  the  first  step.  It  was  difficult,  certainly,  to  give 
a  plausible  appearance  to  a  political  union  among  gentlemen 
who  differed  so  widely  on  the  great  and  leading  question  of  the 
times,  the  question  of  the  protective  policy.  But  this  difficulty 
was  overcome  by  the  oracular  declaration  that  General  Jackson 
was  in  favor  of  a  '•judicious  tariff!  '  Here,  sir,  was  ample 
room  and  verge  enough.  Who  would  object  to  a  judicious 
tariff?  Tariff  men  and  anti-tariff  men,  state-rights  men  and 
consolidationists,  those  who  had  been  called  prodigals,  and  those 
who  had  been  called  radicals,  all  thronged  and  flocked  together 
here,  and,  with  all  their  difference  in  regard  to  ultimate  objects, 
agreed  to  make  common  cause  till  they  should  get  into 
power ! 

"  The  ghosts,  sir,  which  are  fabled  to  cross  the  Styx,  what- 
ever different  hopes  or  purposes  they  may  have  beyond  it,  still 
unite  in  the  present  wish  to  get  over,  and  therefore  all  hurry 
and  huddle  into  the  leaky  and  shattered  craft  of  Charon,  the 
ferryman.  And  this  motley  throng  of  politicians,  sir,  with  as 
much  difference  of  final  object,  and  as  little  care  for  each  other, 
made  a  boat  of  '  Judicious  Tariff; '  and  all  rushed  and  scram- 
bled into  it,  until  they  filled  it,  near  to  sinking.  The  authority 
of  the  master  was  able,  however,  to  keep  them  peaceable  and 


MR.  WEBSTER'S  HUMOR.  32; 

in  order  for  the  time,  for  they  had  the  virtue  of  submission  ; 
and,  though  with  occasional  dangers  of  upsetting,  he  succeeded 
in  pushing  Liem  all  over  with  his  long  setting-pole  : 

Ipse  ratem  con  to  subigit ! ' " 

In  all  of  Mr.  Webster's  works,  there  is  scarcely  a  more  forcible 
illustration  of  his  power  of  throwing  contempt  upon  his  antag- 
onists ;  and,  when  all  the  facts  of  the  case  are  remembered, 
and  the  passage  carefully  collated  with  the  facts,  there  is 
scarcely  a  better  example,  perhaps,  in  the"  English  language. 

The  peroration  of  that  speech,  on  the  other  hand,  though  it 
commences  with  a  ludicrous  allusion,  closes  in  a  bold,  manly, 
sublime  and  impressive  manner.  Alluding  to  Mr.  Calhoun, 
and  to  his  doctrine  of  state-rights,  he  says  :  "  Finally,  the  non- 
orable  member  declares  that  he  shall  now  march  off  under  the 
banner  of  state-rights  !  March  off  from  w  horn  1  March  off 
from  what  ?  We  have  been  contending  for  great  principles. 
We  have  been  struggling  to  maintain  the  liberty  and  to  restore 
the  prosperity  of-  the  country  ;  we  have  made  these  struggles 
here,  in  the  national  councils,  with  the  old  flag,  the  true  Amer 
icon  flag,  the  eagle,  and  the  stars  and  stripes,  waving  over  the 
chamber  in  which  we  sit.  He  now  tells  us,  however,  that  he 
marches  off  under  the  state-rights  banner ! 

"  Let  him  go.  I  remain.  I  am  where  I  ever  have  been,  and 
where  I  ever  mean  to  be.  Here,  standing  on  the  platform  of 
the  general  constitution,  a  platform  broad  enough  and  firm 
enough  to  uphold  every  interest  of  the  whole  country.  I  shall  still 
be  found.  Intrusted  with  some  part  in  the  administration  of 
that  constitution,  I  intend  to  act  in  its  spirit,  and  in  the  spirit  of 
those  who  framed  it,  YL-S.  sir.  1  would  act  as  if  our  fathers, 
who  framed  it  for  us,  and  who  bequeathed  it  to  us,  were  looking 
on  me ;  as  if  I  could  see  their  venerable  forms  bending  dowr 
to  behold  us,  from  the  abodes  above,  1  would  act,  too,  as  if 
the  eye  of  posterity  was  gazing  on  me. 


322  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

"  Standing  thus,  as  in  the  full  gaze  of  our  ancestors  and  oui 
posterity,  having  received  this  inheritance  from  the  former,  tc 
be  transmitted  to  the  latter,  and  feeling  that,  if  I  am  born  for 
any  good,  in  my  day  and  generation,  it  is  for  the  good  of  the 
whole  country,  no  local  policy  or  local  feeling,  no  temporary 
impulse,  shall  induce  me  to  yield  my  foothold  on  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  Union.  I  move  off  under  no  banner  not  known  to 
the  whole  American  people,  and  to  their  constitution  and  laws. 
No,  sir ;  these  walls,  these  columns, 

'shall  fly 
From  their  firm  base  as  soon  ss  1 1 ' 

"  I  came  into  public  life,  sir,  in  the  service  of  the  United 
States.  On  that  broad  altar,  my  earliest,  and  all  my  public 
vowrs,  have  been  made.  I  propose  to  serve  no  other  master. 
So  far  as  depends  on  any  agency  of  mine,  they  shall  continue 
united  states ;  united  in  interest  and  in  affection  ;  united  in 
everything  in  regard  to  which  the  constitution  has  decreed  their 
union ;  united  in  war,  for  the  common  defense,  the  common 
renown,  and  the  common  glory  ;  and  united,  compacted,  knit 
firmly  together,  in  peace,  for  the  common  prosperity  and  hap- 
piness of  ourselves  and  our  children." 

It  is  reported  by  Mr.  Everett,  that,  "  not  long  after  the 
publication  of  this  speech,  the  present  Lord  Overstone,  then 
Mr.  S.  Jones  Lloyd,  one  of  the  highest  authorities  upon  finan- 
cial subjects  in  England,  was  examined  upon  the  subject  of 
banks  and  currency  before  a  committee  of  the  house  of  com- 
mons. He  produced  a  copy  of  the  speech  of  Mr.  Webster 
before  the  committee,  and  pronounced  it  one  of  the  ablest  and 
most  satisfactory  discussions  of  these  subjects  which  he  had 
seen.  In  writing  afterwards  to  Mr.  Webster,  he  spoke  of  him 
as  a  master  who  had  instructed  him  on  these  subjects."  The 
truth  is,  that,  though  not  a  practical  banker,  and  though  he  had 
never  been  in  any  pecuniary  business  for  a  day  in  his  life,  bt» 


DEBATE    WITH    CALIIOUN.  823 

was  capable  of  instructing  the  most  experienced  fimancier  in  the 
elements  and  principles  of  his  own  profession.  But  his  instruc- 
tions were  not  entirely  popular  at  home.  There  was  a  large 
class  of  his  fellow-citizens,  who.  though  all  combined  could  not 
match  him  in  knowledge  of  these  subjects,  deemed  themselves 
above  the  advice  of  him  who  instructed  all  other  men.  The 
American  who  came  nearest  to  him,  in  knowledge,  in  experi- 
ence, in  wisdom  upon  these  topics,  was  Mr.  Calhoun ;  and  yet 
that  gentleman,  in  general  so  candid  and  so  able,  was  trammeled 
upon  this  subject  by  his  political  relations,  and  by  an  unfortu- 
nate inconsistency  which  had  occurred  in  his  opinions  between 
the  earlier  and  later  periods  of  h-is  life.  Mr.  Calhoun,  in  fact, 
was  the  only  gentleman  in  the  senate  capable  of  taking  up  the 
argument,  with  any  prospect  of  tolerable  success,  against  Mr. 
Webster.  He  did  take  it  up ;  and,  after  replying,  as  well  as 
he  could,  to  the  facts  and  the  logic  introduced  by  Mr.  Webster, 
he  sought  to  cast  odium  upon  his  antagonist  by  accusing  him, 
or  hinting  that  he  might  accuse  him,  if  time  permitted,  of  hav 
ing  maintained  no  great  amount  of  consistency  as  a  statesman. 
Had  he  time  to  do  so,  he  said,  he  might  say  something  about 
Mr.  Webster's  first  and  subsequent  course  in  relation  to  the 
late  war.  This  insinuation,  made  toward  the  close  of  Mr. 
Calhoun's  reply,  brought  Mr.  Webster  immediately  to  his  feet. 
After  answering  the  arguments  of  his  opponent,  he  met  this  in- 
sinuation in  a  manner  peculiar  to  himself,  in  a  way  forevei  fr 
silence  the  tongue  of  slander  on  that  subject,  and  after  a  fiish- 
ion,  one  would  think,  to  bring  blushes  of  regret,  if  no  other 
blushes,  on  Mr.  Calhoun's  cheek  :  "  But,  sir,  before  attempting 
that,  he,  [Mr.  Calhoun]  has  something  else  to  say.  He  had 
prepared,  it  seems,  to  draw  comparisons  himself.  He  had  in- 
tended to  say  something  if  time  had  allowed,  upon  our  respect- 
ive opinions  and  conduct  in  regard  to  the  war.  If  time  had 
allowed  !  Sir,  time  does  allow,  time  must  allow.  A  general 
remark  of  that  kind  ought  not  to  be,  cannot  be,  left  to  pro 
VOL.  i.  N*  21 


WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

duce  its  effect,  when  that  effect  is  obviously  intended  to  be  un- 
favorable. Why  did  the  gentleman  allude  to  ray  votes  or  my 
opinions  respecting  the  war  at  all,  unless  he  had  something  to 
say  ?  Does  he  wish  to  leave  an  undefined  impression  that 
something  was  done,  or  something  said,  by  me,  not  now  capa- 
ble of  defense  or  justification  ?  something  not  reconcilable  with 
true  patriotism  1  He  means  that,  or  nothing.  And  now,  sir, 
let  him  bring  the  matter  forth ;  let  him  take  the  responsibility 
of  the  accusation ;  let  him  state  his  facts.  I  am  here  to  an- 
swer ;  I  am  here,  this  day,  to  answer.  Now  is  the  tune,  and 
now  the  hour.  I  think  we  read,  sir,  that  one  of  the  good  spirits 
would  not  bring  against  the  arch-enemy  of  mankind  a  railing 
accusation  ;  and  what  is  railing  but  general  reproach,  an  impu- 
tation without  fact,  time,  or  circumstance  ?  Sir,  I  call  for  par- 
ticulars. The  gentleman  knows  my  whole  conduct  well ;  in- 
deed, the  journals  show  it  all,  from  the  moment  I  came  into 
congress  till  the  peace.  If  I  have  done,  then,  sir,  anything  un- 
patriotic, anything  which,  as  far  as  love  to  country  goes,  will 
not  bear  comparison  with  his  or  any  man's  conduct,  let  it  now 
be  stated.  Give  me  the  fact,  the  time,  the  manner.  He  speaks 
of  the  war ;  that  which  we  call  the  late  war,  though  it  is  now 
twenty-five  years  since  it  terminated.  He  would  leave  an  im 
pression  that  I  opposed  it.  How  ?  I  was  not  in  congress 
when  war  was  declared,  nor  in  public  life  anywhere.  I  was 
pursuing  my  profession,  keeping  company  with  judges  and 
jurors,  and  plaintiffs  and  defendants.  If  I  had  been  in  con- 
gress, and  had  enjoyed  the  benefit  of  hearing  the  honorable 
gentleman's  speeches,  for  aught  I  can  say,  I  might  have  con- 
curred with  him.  But  I  was  not  in  public  life.  I  never  had 
been,  for  a  single  hour  ;  and  was  in  no  situation,  therefore,  to 
oppose  or  to  support  the  declaration  of  war.  I  am  speak- 
ing to  the  fact,  sir ;  and  if  the  gentleman  has  any  fact,  let 
tts  know  it. 

"  Well,  bir,  I  came  into  congress  during  the  war.     I  found  it 


DEBATE   WITH    CALHOUN    CONTINUED.  325 

waged,  and  raging.  And  what  did  I  do  here  to  oppose  it  1 
Look  to  the  journals.  Let  the  honorable  gentleman  tax  his 
memory.  Bring  up  anything,  if  there  be  anything  to  bring 
up,  not  showing  error  of  opinion,  but  showing  want  of  loyalty 
or  fidelity  to  the  country.  1  did  not  agree  to  all  that  was  pro 
posed,  nor  did  the  honorable  member.  I  did  not  approve  of 
every  measure,  nor  did  he.  The  war  had  been  preceded  by 
the  restrictive  system  and  the  embargo.  As  a  private  indi 
victual,  I  certainly  did  not  think  well  of  these  measures.  It  ap- 
peared to  me  that  the  embargo  annoyed  ourselves  as  much 
as  our  enemies,  while  it  destroyed  the  business  and  cramped 
the  spirits  of  the  people.  In  this  opinion,  I  may  have  been 
right  or  wrong,  but  the  gentleman  was  himself  of  the  same 
opinion.  He  told  us  the  other  day,  as  a  proof  of  his  inde- 
pendence of  party  on  great  questions,  that  he  differed  with  his 
friends  on  the  subject  of  the  embargo.  He  was  decidedly  and 
unalterably  opposed  to  it.  It  furnishes,  in  his  judgment, 
therefore,  no  imputation  either  on  my  patriotism,  or  on  the 
soundness  of  my  political  opinions,  that  I  was  opposed  to  it 
also.  I  mean  opposed  in  opinion ;  for  I  was  not  in  congress, 
and  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  act  creating  the  embargo.  And 
as  to  opposition  to  measures  for  carrying  on  the  war,  after  I 
came  into  congress,  I  again  say,  let  the  gentleman  specify  ;  let 
him  lay  his  finger  on  anything  calling  for  an  answer,  and  he 
shall  have  an  snswer. 

"  Mr.  President,  you  were  yourself  in  the  house  during  a  con 
siderable  part  of  this  time.  The  honorable  gentleman  may 
make  a  witness  of  you.  He  may  make  a  -witness  of  any 
body  else.  He  may  be  his  own  witness.  Give  us  but  some 
fact,  some  charge,  something  capable  in  itself  either  of  being 
proved  or  disproved.  Prove  anything,  state  anything,  not 
consistent  with  honorable  and  patriotic  conduct,  and  1  am 
ready  to  answer  it.  Sir,  I  am  glad  this  subject  has  been  alluded 
to  in  a  xnanv>«r  which  justifies  me  iu  taking  public  notice  of  it : 


32(5  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

because  I  am  well  aware  that,  for  ten  years  past,  infinite  pains 
has  been  taken  to  find  something,  in  the  range  of  these  topics, 
which  might  create  prejudice  against  me  in  the  country.  The 
journals  have  all  been  pored  over,  and  the  reports  ransacked, 
and  scraps  of  paragraphs  and  half-sentences  have  been  collected, 
fraudulently  put  together,  and  then  made  to  flare  out  as  if  there 
had  been  some  discovery.  But  all  this  failed.  The  next  re- 
sort was  to  supposed  correspondence.  My  letters  were  sought 
for,  to  learn  if,  in  the  confidence  of  private  friendship,  I  had  ever 
said  anything  which  an  enemy  could  make  use  of.  With  this 
view,  the  vicinity  of  my  former  residence  has  been  searched, 
as  with  a  lighted  candle.  New  Hampshire  has  been  explored 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Merrimack  to  the  White  Hills.  In  one 
instance,  a  gentleman  had  left  the  state,  gone  five  hundred  miles 
off,  and  died.  His  papers  were  examined  ;  a  letter  was  found, 
and,  I  have  understood,  it  was  brought  to  Washington  ;  a  con- 
clave was  held  to  consider  it,  and  the  result  was,  that,  if  there 
was  nothing  else  against  Mr.  Webster,  the  matter  had  better 
be  let  alone.  Sir,  I  hope  to  make  everybody  of  that  opinion 
who  brings  against  me  a  charge  of  want  of  patriotism.  Errors 
of  opinion  can  be  found,  doubtless,  on  many  subjects ;  but  as 
conduct  flows  from  the  feelings  which  animate  the  heart,  I  know 
that  no  act  of  my  life  has  had  its  origin  in  the  want  of  ardent 
love  of  country." 

Notwithstanding  the  warmth  of  this  rejoinder,  and  the  warmth 
of  the  entire  debate  between  the  two  great  champions  of  the 
senate,  of  the  north  and  of  the  south,  at  this  time,  as  at  all 
other  times,  there  was  never  for  a  moment,  probably,  any  \vant 
of  mutual  regard  and  sincere  personal  esteem  between  them. 
Each  always  spoke  of  t,he  other  as  the  most  formidable  of  his 
opponents  among  all  the  politicians  and  statesmen  of  the  coun- 
try ;  Mr.  Webster  always  admired  Mr.  Calhoun  for  his  bold- 
ness and  ability  in  avowing  and  maintaining  his  opinions ;  and 
Mr.  Calhoun,  it  is  well  known,  declared  on  his  death-bed,  after 


PEUSONAL    RELATIONS    WITH    CALHOUN.  327 

giving  utterance  to  other  high  compliments,  that,  "  of  all  the 
public  men  of  the  day,  there  was  no  one,  whose  political  course 
had  been  more  strongly  marked  by  a  strict  regard  to  truth  and 
honor  than  Mr.  Webster's."  Indeed,  §uch  had  been  the  hon 
esty,  the  singleness  of  purpose,  as  well  as  the  masterly  ability 
of  Mr.  Webster's  political  career,  from  the  first,  that  he 
had  been  constantly  rising,  up  to  the  very  time  now  under  con- 
sideration, in  the  honorable  esteem,  not  only  of  his  political 
friends,  but  of  his  political  opponents.  Setting  aside  his  opin- 
ions, in  which  there  will  always  be  more  or  less  difference 
among  men  of  the  greatest  eminence,  he  was  now  acknowl- 
edged, on  all  hands,  as  the  first  of  American  statesmen,  and  the 
pride  of  the  American  republic.  On  nearly  every  subject, 
which  had  not  been  incorporated  into  the  creeds  of  the  parties, 
his  opinion  was  about  of  the  same  force  as  a  law,  to  a  great 
majority  of-his  countrymen.  The  whole  country  followed  him 
with  regard,  admiration,  and  eulogiums.  Not  a  line  could  fall 
from  his  pen,  not  a  word  could  drop  from  his  lips,  that  was  not 
caught  and  received  as  worthy  of  repetition  and  record.  When- 
ever he  met  his  fellow-citizens,  on  any  public  occasion,  he  was 
thronged  by  a  multitude  far  greater  than  could  be  called  to- 
gether, or  had  ever  been  called  together,  by  any  man  ever  upon 
this  continent.  His  audiences,  when  no  one  else  was  expected  to 
speak,  have  been  estimated,  on  several  occasions,  to  range  from 
one  to  two  hundred  thousand  people.  In  fact,  had  he  taken  it 
into  his  head  to  see  how  a  small,  quiet,  ordinary  assembly 
would  appear,  out  among  the  people,  it  would  not  have  been 
possible  for  him,  for  the  twenty  years  preceding  this  period  of 
his  life,  to  have  succeeded  in  the  undertaking.  Wherever  lie 
came,  there  the  masses  of  the  population  would  rush  together ; 
and,  so  great  was  the  desire  to  see  him,  that  anywhere  out  of 
Boston  and  Washington,  where  he  was  most  familiar,  it  was  al- 
most as  impossible  for  him  to  enjoy  the  ordinary  rights  and  in) 
munitietj  of  a  private  citizen.  When  he  wished  to  walk  through 


328  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

the  streets  of  any  of  our  larger  cities,  he  often  found  himself 
blockaded  by  the  greeting  multitudes  that  followed  and  op- 
posed him  ;  and  he  was  compelled,  when  he  wished  to  make 
any  husbandry  of  his  time,  to  go  over  the  shortest  distances  in 
his  carriage.  His  fame,  too,  was  now  fully  established  in  other 
countries.  He  was  known  about  as  well  in  Europe  as  on  this 
continent ;  and,  in  a  rapid  and  brief  trip  across  the  Atlantic, 
made  in  the  spring  and  summer  of  1839,  he  had  occasion  to 
witness,  perhaps  very  much  to  his  own  surprise,  the  length  and 
breadth  of  his  foreign  popularity.  In  England,  Scotland,  Ire- 
land and  France,  which  were  the  countries  visited,  the  common 
people  seemed  to  know  him  ;  they  followed  him,  as  he  was  fol- 
lowed at  home,  in  vast  multitudes ;  and  the  highest  of  the 
nobility,  forgetting  their  titles  and  their  ancestral  pride,  thought 
it  no  dishonor  to  pay  their  court  to  so  great  a  man  as  Mr. 
Webster.  "  No  traveler  from  this  country,"  says  Mr.  Everett, 
speaking  of  this  visit,  "  has  probably  ever  been  received  with 
equal  attention  in  the  highest  quarters  in  England.  Courtesies 
usually  paid  only  to  ambassadors  and  foreign  ministers,  were 
extended  to  him.  His  table  was  covered  with  invitations  to  the 
seats  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  ;  and  his  company  was  eagerly 
sought  at  the  entertainments  which  took  place  while  he  was  in  the 
country."  He  was  present,  by  invitation,  at  the  first  triennial 
celebration  of  the  Royal  Agricultural  Society  of  England,  at 
Oxford,  where  he  made  an  address  to  the  farmers  of  England, 
in  the  shade  of  the  great  English  university;  and,  in  making 
reply  to  a  toast  offered  him  from  the  head  of  the  tables,  by 
Earl  Spencer,  the  president  of  the  society,  surrounded  by  many 
of  the  nobility  of  the  kingdom,  he  seemed  to  be  as  much  self- 
possessed,  as  much  at  home,  as  if  he  had  been  speaking  to  his 
neigSibors  and  friends  in  Boston.  Attempting,  more  than  once, 
to  take  his  seat,  after  he  had  occupied  more  time  than  had  been 
employed  by  the  other  speakers,  he  was  forced  to  go  forward 
a  speech,  instead  of  a  few  remarks,  b^  the  cheers,  plaudit* 


TRIP    TO    ENGLAND.  329 

und  vociferous  demands  from  every  part  of  the  assemblage  ; 
and  when  he  sat  down,  at  the  conclusion  of  his  extempore  ad- 
dress of  about  thirty  minutes,  he  had  said  enough  to  convince 
every  man  present,  and  that  entire  England,  which,  in  less  than 
three  days,  had  read  and  admired  the  speech,  that  there  was  no 
illusion,  no  fiction,  no  exaggeration  in  the  American  and  Euro- 
pean fame  of  the  great  lawver.  statesman,  and  orator  of  his  age 
and  country. 


CHAFI'EK  X 

FIRST  TERM  AS  SECRETARY  OF  STATE. 

THE  fate  of  Mr.  Van  Buren's  administration  was  sealed  i 
long  time  before  its  termination.  It  was  doomed,  in  fact,  be- 
fore it  had  commenced.  Burdened  by  the  consequences  of  the 
financial  experiment  of  his  predecessor,  which  Mr.  Van  Buren 
had  in  words  and  in  fact  assumed,  and  promising,  in  his  first 
message,  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  that  predecessor,  he 
found  it  impossible  to  carry  on  the  government  with  any  great 
success,  because  there  was  real  suffering,  and  heart-felt  com- 
plaining, in  all  parts  of  the  republic.  In  directing  the  eyes  of 
the  people  to  the  true  cause  of  all  their  sufferings,  and  in  ma- 
king them  generally  believe  it  to  be  the  cause,  Mr.  Webster 
had  been  the  leading  agent ;  he  had  gone  into  the  canvass  of 
1840,  the  most  enthusiastic  one  of  our  whole  history,  with  great 
zeal ;  and  the  consequence  was,  at  least  the  result  was,  the  tri- 
umphant election  of  General  Harrison. 

No  sooner  was  it  certain  that  the  election  had  thus  resulted, 
than  the  president  elect  addressed  Mr.  Webster,  and  offered 
him  his  choice  in  the  new  cabinet,  though  the  president  de- 
sired him  to  take  the  treasury  department.  This  preference 
was  founded  on  the  fact,  now  universally  confessed,  that  Mr. 
Webster  was  by  far  the  ablest  financier  in  the  country  ;  and, 
as  the*  currency  was  in  a  most  deplorable  condition,  requiring 
the  highest  constructive  abilities  to  restore  it  to  its  former 
state  of  soundness,  it  was  natural  enough  to  look  to  such  a 


DIFFICULTIES    WITH    ENGLAND.  331 

man  for  such  a  labor.  But  this  was  not,  upon  the  wholt..  the 
preference  of  Mr.  Webster.  Though  a  gieat  work  was  to  be 
done  in  this  department,  a  work  of  high  moment  to  the  inter- 
nal prosperity  of  the  country,  he  saw  veiy  clearly,  from  the 
history  of  the  preceding  forty  or  fifty  years,  that  a  greater  work 
was  to  be  performed  for  the  external  relations  of  the  govern- 
ment, which  were  in  a  very  critical  condition.  Our  relations 
with  England,  in  particular,  were  exceedingly  sensitive  and 
unpromising.  War  with  England  had  been  foretold  by  many 
of  the  most  sagacious  statesmen  of  both  countries.  Some  of 
our  own  statesmen,  or  politicians,  had  been  for  years  looking 
with  hope,  if  not  with  effort,  toward  the  opening  of  a  rupture. 
There  were  not  wanting  men  of  the  highest  position  in  Great 
Britain,  who  began  to  think  it  time  to  strike  a-  blow  against 
us,  and  do  something  to  humble  the  pretensions,  and  break 
the  example,  of  the  great  republic.  Many  causes  of  irritation 
were  existing,  which  had  been  growing  more  and  more  irrita- 
ting for  a  quarter  of  a  century,  between  the  two  nations.  The 
boundary  line,  in  fact,  always  a  question  of  great  danger,  if 
left  to  be  a  question,  had  not  been  settled  between  the  United 
States  and  the  Ginadas.  The  north-eastern,  north-western,  and 
much  of  the  intervening  portions  of  the  boundary  line,  had 
never  been  determined.  Along  the  entire  border,  from  New 
Brunswick  to  the  Pacific  ocean,  there  was  a  great  extent  of  dis- 
puted territory,  on  some  portions  of  which,  claimed  sturdily 
by  Great  Britain,  our  general  government  had  built  public 
works ;  and  on  large  tracts,  east  and  west,  an  American  popu 
lation  had  settled  down,  supposing  the  soil  to  be  American 
while  it  was  in  fact  disputed  between  the  two  countries. 

In  addition  to  this  great  question  of  boundary,  there  was  the 
question  of  the  African  slave-trade,  which,  though  formally  de- 
nounced by  both  governments  as  pirasy,  had  created  disturb- 
ances of  a  serious  nature,  in  consequence  of  the  peculiar  laws 
of  Great  Britain  in  relation  to  slavery  and  fradom,  which  she 


33?  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

Had  put  in  force  over  slaves  which  had  been,  by  stress  of 
weather  or  other  forcible  causes,  carried  within  her  territorial 
limits.  Slaves,  even  accompanied  by  their  owners,  had  been 
thus  landed  by  accident  in  some  ports  of  the  British  West 
Indies;  and  the  local  authorities,  applying  their  local  law  of 
freedom  to  such  slaves,  and  setting  them  at  liberty  from  theii 
masters,  had  given  great  offense  to  a  large  portion  of  our  citi- 
zens, and  had  really  committed  an  express  indignity  to  the  law 
of  nations. 

At  an  evil  time,  also,  there  had  occurred  on  the  American 
border,  in  the  destruction  of  the  steamboat  Caroline,  by  British 
troops,  a  case  of  the  most  exciting  character,  which  had  roused 
the  jealousy  and  anger  of  both  governments.  One  of  the  per 
petrators  of  this  act,  on  coming,  afterward,  within  the  limits  of 
the  state  of  New  York,  had  been  arrested  on  a  charge  of  mur- 
der, and  bound  over  for  trial ;  and  England,  on  hearing  of  the 
critical  situation  of  that  gentleman,  Alexander  McLeod,  had 
demanded,  not  of  New  York,  of  course,  but  of  the  general  gov- 
ernment, the  immediate  release  of  the  prisoner,  while  it  was 
impossible  for  the  general  government,  according  to  our  system 
of  confederation,  to  interfere,  in  any  way  whatever,  in  tig  matter 

Many  other  causes  existed,  of  a  very  delicate  character,  to 
disturb  the  peaceful  relations  of  the  two  countries ;  and  Mr. 
Webster,  therefore,  knowing  fully  that  the  internal  prosperity 
of  a  commercial  community  depends  at  last  on  the  nature  and 
condition  of  its  external  relations,  chose  to  accept  the  office  of 
secretary  of  state,  in  place  of  that  of  secretary  of  the  treasury 
as  offered  by  General  Harrison.  General  Harrison  was  not 
at  all  displeased  with  the  selection  ;  and  the  country  has  now, 
as  it  ever  will  have,  the  best  of  reasons  to  congratulate  itself 
on  the  choice  made,  and  its  men. jrablr  results.  Jc  Mr.  Web- 
ster has  ever  done  a  work  wortny  of  universal  commendation, 
or  likely  to  be  remembered  over  the  civilized  world  longer  thai 
mother  work,  it  is  that  performed  by  him,  at  this  period  ol 


COMMENCEMENT   OF    NEGOTIATIONS.  333 

his  life,  while  in  this  position  ;  for  it  was  in  this  that  he  settled 
forever  the  most  difficult  and  delicate  questions  that  had  ever 
existed  between  the  two  leading  empires  of  modern  history. 

Mr.  Webster  had  scarcely  taken  his  seat  in  the  chair  of 
state,  when  he  received  a  note  from  Mr.  Fox,  British  minister 
at  Washington,  dated  March  12th,  1841,  demanding  the  re- 
lease of  McLeod  by  the  authorities  of  New  York.  In  his  re- 
ply, Mr.  Webster  reminds  Mr.  Fox,  that,  according  to  the  laws 
of  the  United  States,  as  well  as  those  of  England,  the  execu- 
tive has  no  right  to  interfere  with  a  judicial  process  before 
'Hal,  and  that,  if  any  interference  were  possible,  it  would  not 
De  possible  to  the  president,  but  to  the  governor  of  New  York, 
as  every  state,  though  a  part  of  the  general  confederacy,  is  an 
independent  sovereignty,  over  whose  municipal  officers  the  gen- 
eral government  has  no  control.  Mr.  Fox,  in  making  the  de- 
mand, informed  Mr.  Webster  that  the  act  with  which  Mr. 
McLeod  had  been  charged,  was  an  act  performed  under  au- 
thority of  the  British  government,  and  the  British  government 
assumed  the  entire  responsibility  of  the  act;  and,  therefore, 
Mr.  Webster  addressed  a  letter  to  the  attorney  general  of  the 
United  States,  giving  him  official  knowledge  of  this  fact,  and 
directing  him  to  make  it  known  to  McLeod's  counsel,  that  it 
might  be  plead  before  the  court,  and  thus  secure  the  release 
of  the  prisoner  in  a  constitutional  and  lawful  manner.  The 
New  York  court,  however,  would  not  receive  this  plea  in  justi- 
fication, but  held  McLeod  personally  responsible.  He  was  not 
released,  on  demand  of  the  British  government,  but  tried  on 
the  indictment,  in  spite  of  the  demand,  as  any  other  criminal 
would  have  been.  This  gave  great  offence  to  the  government 
of  Great  Britain  ;  and  had  not  the  trial  terminated  in  the  ac 
quittal  of  the  prisoner,  it  is  probable  that  war  between  the  two 
countries  would  have  been  the  sequel. 

The  feeling,  however,  was  not  all  on  the  side  of  England, 
fhe  people  of  the  United  States,  and  particularly  the  people 


334  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

living  along  the  Canadian  border,  were  indignant  at  the  des- 
truction of  the  Caroline,  a  vessel  purporting  to  run  between 
Buffalo  and  Schlosser,  but  really  engaged  in  supplying  men  and 
ammunition  to  the  Canadian  rebels,  who,  joined  by  many  Amer- 
ican citizens  of  a  low  character,  had  undertaken  to  subvert  the 
government  of  Great  Britain  in  the  Canadas.  The  case  was 
not  properly  understood  by  the  citizens  of  the  United  States, 
generally.  They  supposed  that  the  steamboat  Caroline,  en- 
gaged in  a  peaceful  traffic,  while  lying  at  her  own  wharf  at 
Schlosser,  had  been  boarded  by  a  detachment  of  Canadian  sol- 
diers, set  on  fire,  and  then  drawn  out  into  the  current  to  float 
over  the  Niagara.  They  were  told,  too,  that  American  citizens 
had  been  murdered  in  the  encounter ;  that,  when  set  on  fire  and 
hauled  into  the  stream,  the  Caroline  had  not  only  dead  bodies, 
but  living  persons,  on  her  decks  and  in  her  cabins,  all  of  whom 
were  left  to  make  that  awful  plunge  from  which  humanity 
shrinks  with  horror ;  and  that  the  British  government  now  as- 
sumed the  whole  proceeding  as  its  own  act,  for  which  it  held 
itself,  however,  as  it  was  an  act  of  justifiable  self-defense,  irre- 
sponsible. 

All  these  proceedings,  the  destruction  of  the  Caroline,  the 
murder  of  an  American  citizen,  for  it  turned  out  that  only  one 
was  killed,  and  the  violation  of  our  territory  had  taken  place  in 
the  year  1837,  the  first  year  of  Mr.  Van  Buren's  administra- 
tion ;  but,  instead  of  being  settled  by  that  administration,  they 
had  been  only  aggravated  by  the  arrest  of  McLeod,  by  a 
crooked  diplomatic  correspondence,  and  by  that  natural  pro- 
cess of  aggravation  which  grows  out  of  letting  difficulties  re- 
main as  matters  of  crimination  and  recrimination,  instead  of 
being  promptly  met  at  their  first  appearance.  The  first  thing 
Mr.  Webster  had  to  do,  therefore,  was  to  explain  to  the  Brit- 
ish government  the  actual  condition  of  affairs,  and,  as  that  gov- 
e^nment  had  assumed  the  responsibility  of  the  whole  case,  to 
procure  Mr.  McLeod's  release,  that  he  might  hold  Great  Brit 


ACQUITTAL    OF   li'LEOD.  .  335 

ain  to  the  responsibility  it  had  avowed.  His  letter  to  Mr.  Fox 
is  as  able  a  performance  of  the  kind  as  had  ever  issued  from 
i he  department  of  state;  and  though  the  court  of  New  York 
did  not  act  upon  the  law  as  stated  by  Mr.  Webster,  nor  fol- 
low his  advice,  its  decision  has  been  condemned,  not  only  by 
such  men  as  Chancellor  Kent,  Chief  Justice  Spencer,  and  J  udge 
Tallmadge,  of  New  York,  but  by  nearly  every  lawyer  and  ju- 
rist of  eminence  in  the  country. 

This  cause  of  irritation  being  removed,  however,  by  the  ac- 
quittal of  the  prisoner,  Mr.  Webster  set  himself  to  work  to 
settle  the  other  prominent  difficulties  that  existed  between  the 
United  States  and  England.  He  wished,  if  possible,  to  lay  the 
foundations  of  a  perpetual  peace  between  the  two  great  com- 
mercial countries  of  the  world.  The  world,  he  thought,  de- 
manded such  a  peace.  Not  only  the  trade  and  business  and 
financial  prosperity  of  the  two  countries  demanded  it ;  but  it 
was  equally  demanded  by  the  cause  of  civilization,  of  religion, 
of  liberty,  of  general  intelligence,  of  universal  philanthropy. 
Having  obtained  the  consent  of  Mr.  Tyler,  now  president  of 
the  United  States  in  consequence  of  the  lamented  and  untimely 
death  of  General  Harrison,  he  addressed  a  note  to  Mr.  Fox  in 
the  summer  of  1841,  in  which  he  distinctly  stated  that  thegov 
ernment  of  the  United  States  was  prepared  to  enter  upon  ne- 
gotiations for  the  settlement  of  all  questions  pending  between 
the  governments.  In  the  September  following,  the  ministry 
of  Sir  Robert  Peel  having  come  into  power,  the  proposition 
was  received  with  favor ;  and  in  December,  Lord  Aberdeen, 
secretary  of  state  for  foreign  affairs,  informed  Mr.  Everett, 
minister  of  the  United  States  at  the  court  of  London,  that  the 
government  of  England  hud  determined  to  send  Lord  Ashbur- 
ton,  a  particular  friend  of  Mr.  Webster,  as  a  special  njinistei 
to  this  country,  with  full  powers  to  settle  the  boundary  ques 
tion,  and  several  other  questions  yet  in  controversy  between 
the  two  governments. 


336  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

Lord  Ashburton  arrived  in  the  United  States  on  the  4th  of 
April,  1842,  when  Mr.  Webster  commenced  his  great  task. 
by  addressing  notes  to  the  governors  of  Maine  and.  Massachu 
setts,  asking  a  joint  commission,  on  the  part  of  the  two  states 
interested  in  the  north-eastern  boundary,  to  act  definitively  and 
in  concert  with  himself  and  the  British  special  minister.  Both 
states  immediately  complied  with  the  request  of  Mr.  Webster; 
and  their  commissioners  reached  Washington  in  the  early  part 
of  June,  when  the  work  of  settlement  was  at  once  begun. 
That  the  commissioners  might  not  be  detained  longer  than  ne- 
cessary, the  first  topic  introduced  was  the  north-eastern  bound- 
ary question,  the  peculiar  intricacies  and  difficulties  of  which 
have  been  clearly  and  succinctly  stated  by  Mr.  Webster.  In 
his  speech  to  the  senate,  delivered  on  the  6th  and  7th  of  April, 
1846,  he  says :  "  In  the  treaty  of  peace  of  September,  1783, 
the  northern  and  eastern,  or  perhaps,  more  properly  speaking, 
the  north-eastern  boundary  of  the  United  States,  is  described 
as  follows  :  '  From  the  north-west  angle  of  Nova  Scotia,  namely, 
that  angle  which  is  formed  by  a  line  drawn  due  north  from  the 
source  of  St.  Croix  river  to  the  highlands ;  along  the  said 
highlands,  which  divide  those  rivers  that  empty  themselves  into 
the  river  St.  Lawrence  from  those  which  fall  into  the  Atlantic 
ocean,  to  the  north-westernmost  head  of  Connecticut  river ; 
thence,  along  the  middle  of  that  river,  to  the  forty-fifth  degree 
of  north  latitude ;  from  thence  by  a  line  due  west  on  said  lati- 
tude, until  it  strikes  the  river  Iroquois,  or  Cateraquy.  East, 
by  a  line  to  be  drawn  along  the  middle  of  the  river  St.  Croix, 
from  its  mouth  in  the  bay  of  Fundy,  to  its  source,  and  from 
its  source  directly  north  to  the  aforesaid  highlands. 

"Such  is  the  description  of  the  north-eastern  boundary  of  the 
United  States,  according  to  the  treaty  of  peace  of  1783.  And 
it  is  quite  remarkable  that  so  many  embarrassing  questions 
should  have  arisen  from  these  few  lines,  and  have  been  matters 
of  controversy  for  more  than  half  a  century. 


NORTH-EASTERN    BOUNDARY.  337 

•'  The  first  question  disputed  was,  '  Which  of  the  several  riv- 
ers running  into  the  buy  of  .Fundy,  is  the  St.  Croix,  mentioned 
in  the  treaty  ?'  It  is  singular  that  this  should  be  matter  of 
dispute,  but  so  it  was.  England  insisted  that  the  true  St. 
Croix  was  one  river.  The  United  States  insisted  that  it  was 
another. 

"  The  second  controverted  question  was,  '  Where  is  the  north- 
west angle  of  Nova  Scotia  to  be  found  ? ' 

"The  third,  'What and  where  are  the  highlands,  along  which 
the  line  is  to  run,  from  the  north-west  angle  of  Nova  Scotia 
to  the  north-westernmost  head  of  Connecticut  river  ?' 

"The  fourth,  'Of  the  several  streams,  which,  flowing  to 
gether,  make  up  the  Connecticut  river,  which  is  that  stream 
which  ought  to  be  regarded  as  its  north-westernmost  head  ?' 

"  The  fifth  was,  'Are  the  rivers  which  discharge  their  waters 
'into  the  bay  of  Fundy,  rivers  "  which  fall  into  the  Atlantic 
ocean,"  in  the  sense  of  the  terms  used  in  the  treaty  ] ' 

"  The  fifth  article  of  the  treaty  between  the  United  States 
and  Great  Britain,  of  the  19th  of  November,  1794,  after  reci- 
ting, that  doubt  had  'arisen  what  river  was  truly  intended  under 
the  name  of  the  river  St.  Croix,'  proceeds  to  provide  for  the  de- 
cision of  that  question,  by  creating  three  commissioners,  one  to 
be  appointed  by  each  government,  and  these  two  to  choose  a 
third  ;  or,  if  they  could  not  agree,  then  each  to  make  his  nomi- 
nation, and  decide  the  choice  by  lot.  The  two  commissioners 
agreed  on  a  third  ;  the  three  executed  the  duty  assigned  them, 
decided  what  river  was  the  true  St.  Croix,  traced  it  to  its  source, 
and  there  established  a  monument.  So  much,  then,  on  the 
eastern  line  was  settled  ;  and  all  the  other  questions  remained 
wholly  unsettled  down  to  the  year  1842." 

Mr.  Webster  then  goes  on  to  show  what  had  been  attempted, 
by  the  successive  administrations  of  our  government,  during 
the  present  century.  On  the  12th  of  May,  1803,  a  convention 
was  ratified  by  Lord  Hawksbury  and  Rufus  King,  providing 


3o8  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

for  the  appointment  of  three  commissioners,  in  the  manner  be 
fore  mentioned,  who  should  have  power  "  to  run  and  mark  the 
line  from  the  monument,  at  the  source  of  the  St.  Croix,  to  that 
north-west  angle  of  Nova  Scotia ;  and  also  to  determine  the 
north-westernmost  head  of  Connecticut  river ;  and  then  to  run 
and  mark  the  boundary  line  between  the  north-west  angle  of 
Nova  Scotia  and  the  said  north-westernmost  head  of  Connec- 
ticut river ;  and  the  decision  and  proceedings  of  the  said  com- 
missioners were  to  be  final  and  conclusive. 

"  No  objection,"  continues  Mr.  Webster,  "  was  made  by 
either  government  to  this  agreement  and  stipulation ;  but  an 
incident  arose  to  prevent  the  final  ratification  of  the  treaty  ; 
and  it  arose  in  this  way.  Its  fifth  article  contained  an  agree- 
ment between  the  parties,  settling  the  line  of  boundary  between 
them  beyond  the  Lake  of  the  Woods.  In  coining  to  this  agree- 
ment, they  proceeded,  exclusively,  on  the  grounds  of  their  re- 
spective rights  under  the  treaty  of  1783 ;  but  it  so  happened, 
that,  twelve  days  before  the  convention  was  signed  in  London, 
France,  by  a  treaty  signed  in  Paris,  had  ceded  Louisiana  to  the 
United  States.  This  cession  was  at  once  regarded  as  giving  to 
the  United  States  new  rights,  or  new  limits,  in  this  part  of  the  con- 
tinent. The  senate,  therefore,  struck  this  fifth  article  out  of 
the  convention  ;  and,  as  England  did  not  incline  to  agree  to  this 
alteration,  the  whole  convention  fell." 

The  whole  subject  rested  till  revived,  in  1814,  by  the  fifth 
article  of  the  treaty  of  Ghent,  which  provided  for  the  appoint- 
ment of  two  commissioners,  who  should  examine  and  run  the 
line,  from  the  source  of  the  St.  Croix  to  the  St.  Lawrence,  ac- 
cording to  the  treaty  of  1783  ;  but  the  commissioners,  if  they 
could  not  agree,  were  to  state  their  points  of  difference,  which 
were  afterwards  to  be  submitted,  by  the  two  governments,  to 
the  arbitration  of  some  friendly  power.  The  commissioners 
did  not  agree ;  and  the  matter  was  finally  committed  to  the 
king  of  the  Netherlands,  who,  in  1831,  made  a  decision  to 


FORMER    NEGOTIATIONS.  339 

which  neither  country  would  consent.  General  Jaokson  was 
now  president ;  and  the  president  took  it  upon  him,  as  a  spe- 
cial task,  to  bring  this  great  question  to  a  final  settlement. 
Nothing,  however,  was  accomplished  during  his  entire  adminis- 
tration of  the  government ;  and  in  his  last  annual  message  he 
admitted,  that,  after  toiling  for  five  years  upon  the  subject,  he 
had  not  proceeded  so  far  as  to  know  what  the  views  of  England 
were  in  relation  to  the  settlement:  "  I  regret  to  say,"  says 
the  president,  "  that  many  questions  of  an  interesting  nature, 
at  issue  with  other  powers,  are  yet  unadjusted  ;  among  the 
most  prominent  of  these  is  that  of  the  north-eastern  boundary. 
With  an  undiminished  confidence  in  the  sincere  desire  of  his 
Britanic  majesty's  government  to  adjust  that  question,  I  am 
not  yet  in  possession  of  the  precise  grounds  upon  which  it  pro- 
poses a  satisfactory  adjustment." 

Such  was  the  condition  of  the  question  on  the  elevation  of 
Mr.  Van  Buren  to  the  presidency  ;  and,  in  his  first  annual  mes- 
sage, he  expresses  his  deep  regret,  which,  no  doubt,  bordered 
upon  mortification,  that,  for  a  period  of  about  half  a  century, 
nothing  had  been  done  by  our  government  in  the  settlement 
of  this  difficulty  :  "  Of  pending  questions,"  says  the  message, 
"  the  most  important  is  that  which  exists  with  the  government 
of  Great  Britain  in  respect  to  our  north-eastern  boundary.  It 
is  with  unfeigned  regret,  that  the  people  of  the  United  States 
must  look  back  upon  the  abortive  efforts  made  by  the  execu- 
tive for  a  period  of  more  than  half  a  century,  to  determine  what 
no  nation  should  suffer  long  to  remain  in  dispute,  the  true  line 
which  divides  its  possessions  from  those  of  other  powers." 
When  publishing  this  opinion,  Mr.  Van  Buren  no  doubt  felt 
confidence,  that  he  should  have  the  merit  of  settling  this  great 
question ;  but  his  efforts,  on  this  matter,  were  as  abortive  as 
the  efforts  of  his  predecessors.  He  left  it,  in  fact,  in  a  worse 
condition  than  that  in  which  he  found  it :  "  And  now,  sir," 
Baid  Mr.  Webster,  in  the  speech  before  mentioned,  and  in  ref 
VOL.  i.  O  23 


340  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

srence  to  the  tacit  and  premature  assurance  but  ultimate  fail 
ure  of  Mr.  Van  Buren,  "  what  did  he  accomplish  ]  What  pro- 
gress did  he  make?  What  step  forward  did  he  take,  in  the 
whole  course  of  his  administration  ?  Seeing  the  full  impor 
tance  of  the  subject,  addressing  himself  to  it,  and  not  doubting 
the  just  disposition  of  England,  I  ask  again,  what  did  he  do  ? 
What  advance  did  he  make  ?  Sir,  not  one  step  in  his  whole 
four  years.  Or  rather,  if  he  made  any  advance  at  all,  it  was 
an  advance  backward ;  for,  undoubtedly,  he  left  the  question 
in  a  much  worse  condition  than  he  found  it,  not  only  on  ac- 
count of  the  disturbances  and  outbreaks  which  had  taken  place 
on  the  border,  for  the  want  of  an  adjustment,  and  which  dis- 
turbances themselves  had  raised  new  and  difficult  questions, 
but  on  account  of  the  intricacies  and  complexities,  and  perplex- 
ities, in  which  the  correspondence  had  become  involved.  The 
subject  was  entangled  in  meshes,  which  rendered  it  far  more 
difficult  to  proceed  with  the  question,  than  if  it  had  been  fresh 
and  unembarrassed." 

This  closing  allegation  of  Mr.  Webster  is  entirely  correct.  Bor- 
der troubles  of  a  very  serious  nature  had  sprung  up  between  Maine 
and  the  authorities  of  New  Brunswick.  The  American  settle- 
ments on  the  Madawaska  had  been  threatened  with  hostilities ; 
a  general  panic  had  thus  spread  among  them ;  and  the  gov- 
ernor of  Maine,  Mr.  Fail-field,  had  ordered  a  large  body  of 
militia  to  the  disputed  territory  for  the  defence  of  the  soil  and 
the  protection  of  the  inhabitants.  The  whole  country  was  ex- 
cited upon  the  subject ;  and  when  Mr.  Webster,  Lord  Ashbur- 
ton  and  the  joint  commissioners  began  their  negotiations,  they 
had  every  reason  to  believe,  indeed  there  could  be  no  doubt, 
that  a  failure  now  would  result  in  immediate  war  between  the 
two  countries. 

Happily  for  both,  however,  the  wisdom  and  friendship  of  the 
two  ministers,  aided  by  the  intelligence  and  patriotism  of  the 
commissioners,  prevailed  over  every  disturbing  influence.  The 


SETTLEMENT    OF    THE    BOUNDARY.  341 

negotiations  were  carried  on  chiefly  by  conversations  betweei 
Lord  Ashburton  and  Mr.  Webster.  Having  agreed  upon  the 
boundary  line,  after  an  amount  of  investigation  which  no  one 
not  experienced  in  such  troubles  can  at  all  appreciate,  it  was 
proposed  in  a  letter  from  the  American  secretary  to  the  joint 
commissioners,  and  thus,  mainly  by  the  industry,  ability  and 
perseverance  of'Mr.  Webster,  the  most  fundamental  and  per- 
plexing difficulty  that  ever  existed  between  the  United  States 
and  a  foreign  government,  which  had  baffled  the  skill  of  every 
successive  cabinet  since  the  foundation  of  the  republic,  which 
had  threatened  hostilities  between  the  two  countries  for  more 
than  fifty  years,  and  which  was  likely  to  bring  us  into  an  im 
mediate  outbreak  and  war  with  the  British  empire,  was  finally 
and  forever  put  to  rest.  A  treaty  was  concluded  upon,  by 
Lord  Ashburton  and  Mr.  Webster,  which  definitely  and  defin- 
itively fixed  the  boundary  between  the  United  States  and  the 
British  possessions  in  North  America,  along  the  whole  line, 
from  Nova  Scotia  to  the  St.  Lawrence,  thence  up  the  channel 
of  that  river  and  through  the  great  chain  of  lakes  to  the  porta- 
ges above  the  head  waters  of  Lake  Superior,  and  thence  through 
untrodden  and  pathless  forests,  and  over  and  along  vast  moun- 
tain ranges,  for  a  distance  of  about  four  thousand  miles,  a  line 
long  enough  to  divide  the  whole  of  Europe,  to  the  base  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains. 

Notwithstanding  the  partisan  objections,  which  were  at  one 
time  raised  against  this  settlement  of  the  boundary,  all  of  which 
were  thoroughly  answered  by  Mr.  Webster  in  his  speech  of 
the  6th  and  7th  of  April,  1846,  any  American,  who  will  take 
the  pains,  or  rather  give  himself  the  pleasure,  of  reading  the 
treaty  of  Washington,  by  which  this  settlement  was  made,  and 
all  the  documents  pertaining  to  the  subject,  will  not  fail  to  see, 
that  England  gave  up,  and  intended  to  give  up,  almost  every 
disputed  interest  connected  with  this  question,  as  an  offset  to 
jthei  interests,  which  she  had  more  at  heart,  and  which  she 


342  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTitt-PIECES. 

made  a  prominent  part  of  the  negotiations.  Those  high  an 6 
paramount  interests  were  connected  with  the  African  slave- 
trade.  She  did  not  call  upon  us,  however,  to  undertake  or  in- 
itiate any  new  policy  in  reference  to  this  subject ;  for  she  well 
knew  that  the  United  States  had  taken  the  lead  of  all  other 
countries  in  declaring  the  slave-trade  piracy,  punishable  as  a 
crime  of  the  greatest  magnitude.  What  she  desired  was,  that 
our  government  should  accept  of  her  cooperation  in  executing 
a  common  determination  to  suppress  it ;  that  we  should  agree 
to  unite  with  her  in  maintaining  a  sufficient  force  at  sea,  and 
particularly  on  the  coast  of  Africa,  to  secure  a  speedy  extinction 
of  the  traffic;  and  that  our  government  should  consent,  in  or- 
der to  carry  out  this  grand  design,  to  the  visitation  of  merchant 
vessels  sailing  under  our  flag,  for  the  purpose  of  putting  a  stop 
to  the  practice,  common  to  the  unholy  trade,  of  sailing  under 
false  colors  while  prosecuting  their  nefarious  business. 

Nothing,  certainly,  could  have  been  proposed  more  conso- 
nant to  the  repeated  legislation  and  solemn  declarations  of  our 
government ;  but,  strange  to  say,  from  the  time  when  our  le- 
gislation was  had  upon  the  subject,  there  had  been  a  singular 
reluctance,  on  the  part  of  our  several  and  successive  cabinets,  to 
enter  into  any  very  special  stipulations  of  this  nature.  The 
history  of  the  negotiations,  which  have  occurred  between  this 
country  and  Great  Britain,  is  very  briefly  and  correctly  stated 
by  Mr.  Everett :  "  The  British  government."  says  that  gen- 
tleman, "  for  the  praiseworthy  purpose  of  putting  a  stop  to  the 
traffic  in  slaves,  has  at  different  times  entered  into  conventions 
with  several  of  the  states  of  Europe  authorizing  a  mutual  right 
of  search  of  the  trading  vessels  of  each  contracting  party  by  the 
armed  cruisers  of  the  other  party.  These  treaties  give  no  right 
to  search  the  vessels  of  nations  not  parties  to  them.  But  if  an 
armed  ship  of  either  party  should  search  a  vessel  of  a  third 
power  under  a  reasonable  suspicion  that  she  belonged  to  the 
other  contracting  party,  ar  i  was  pursuing  the  slave-trade  ir. 


THE  AFRICAN  SLAVE-TRADE.  343 

contravention  of  the  treaty,  this  act  of  power,  performed  by 
mistake,  and  with  requisite  moderation  and  circumspection  in 
the  manner,  would  not  be  just  ground  of  offense.  It  would, 
however,  authorize  a  reasonable  expectation  of  indemnification 
on  behalf  of  the  private  individuals  who  might  suffer  by  the 
detention,  as  in  other  cases  of  injury  inflicted  on  innocent  per- 
sons by  public  functionaries  acting  with  good  intentions,  but  at 
their  peril. 

"  The  government  of  the  United  States,  both  in  its  executive 
and  legislative  branches,  has  at  almost  all  times  manifested  an 
extreme  repugnance  to  enter  into  conventions  for  a  mutual  right 
of  search.  It  has  not  yielded  to  any  other  power  in  its  aver- 
sion to  the  slave-trade,  which  it  was  the  first  government  to 
denounce  as  piracy.  The  reluctance  in  question  grew  princi- 
pally out  of  the  injuries  inflicted  upon  the  American  commerce, 
and  still  more  out  of  the  personal  outrages  in  the  impressment 
of  American  seamen,  which  took  place  during  the  wars  of 
Napoleon,  and  incidentally  to  the  belligerent  right  of  search 
and  the  enforcement  of  the  Orders  in  Council  and  the  Berlin 
and  Milan  decrees.  Besides  a  wholesale  confiscation  of  Amer- 
ican property,  hundreds  of  American  seamen  were  impressed 
into  the  ships  of  war  of  Great  Britain.  So  deeply  had  the  pub- 
lic sensibility  been  wounded  on  both  points,  that  any  extension 
of  the  right  of  search  by  the  consent  of  the  United  States  was 
for  a  long  time  nearly  hopeless. 

"  But  this  feeling,  strong  and  general  as  it  was,  yielded  at 
last  to  the  detestation  of  the  slave-trade.  Toward  the  close  of 
the  second  administration  of  Mr.  Monroe  the  executive  had 
been  induced,  acting  under  the  sanction  of  resolutions  of  the 
two  houses  of  congress,  to  agree  to  a  convention  with  Great 
Britain  for  a  mutual  right  of  search  of  vessels  suspected  of  be- 
ing engaged  in  the  traffic.  This  convention  was  negotiated  ii 
London  by  Mr.  Rush  on  the  part  of  the  United  States,  MJ 


1--44  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECE?. 

Canning  being  the  British  secretary  of  state  for  foreign 
affairs. 

"  In  defining  the  limits  within  which  this  right  should  be  exer. 
cised,  the  coasts  of  America  were  included.  The  senate  were 
of  opinion  that  such  a  provision  might  be  regarded  as  an  ad- 
mission that  the  slave-trade  was  carried  on  between  the  coasts 
of  Africa  and  the  United  States,  contrary  to  the  known  fact, 
and  to  the  reproach  either  of  the  will  or  power  of  the  United 
States  to  enforce  their  laws,  by  which  it  was  declared  to  be 
piracy.  It  also  placed  the  whole  coast  of  the  Union  under  the 
surveillance  of  the  cruisers  of  a  foreign  power.  The  senate 
accordingly  ratified  the  treaty,  with  an  amendment  exempting 
the  coasts  of  the  United  States  from  the  operation  of  the  article. 
They  also  introduced  other  amendments  of  less  importance. 

"  On  the  return  of  the  treaty  to  London  thus  amended,  Mr. 
Canning  gave  way  to  a  feeling  of  dissatisfaction  at  the  course 
pursued  by  the  senate,  not  so  much  on  account  of  any  decided 
objection  to  the  amendment  in  itself  considered,  as  to  the  claim 
of  the  senate  to  introduce  any  change  into  a  treaty  negotiated 
according  to  instructions.  Under  the  influence  of  this  feeling, 
Mr'.  Canning  refused  to  ratify  the  treaty  as  amended,  and 
no  further  attempt  was  at  that  time  made  to  renew  the 
negotiation. 

"  It  will  probably  be  admitted  on  all  hands,  at  the  present 
day,  that  Mr.  Canning's  scruple  was  without  foundation.  The 
treaty  had  been  negotiated  by  this  accomplished  statesman, 
under  the  full  knowledge  that  the  constitution  of  the  United 
States  reserves  this  power  to  the  senate.  That  it  should  be 
exercised  was,  therefore,  no  more  matter  of  complaint,  than  that 
the  treaty  should  be  referred  at  all  to  the  ratification  of  the 
senate.  The  course  pursued  by  Mr.  Canning  was  greatly  to 
be  regretted,  as  it  postponed  the  amicable  adjustment  of  this 
matter  for  eighteen  years,  not  without  risk  of  serious  misundar 
standing  in  (he  interval. 


THE    RIGHT    OF    SEARCH.  345 

"  Attempts  were  made  on  the  part  of  England,  during  the 
ministry  of  Lord  Melbourne,  to  renew  the  negotiation  with  the 
United  States,  but  without  success.  Conventions  between 
France  and  England,  for  a  mutual  right  of  search  within  cer- 
tain limits,  were  concluded  in  1831  and  1833,  under  the  min- 
istry of  the  Due  de  Broglie,  without  awakening  the  public  sen- 
sibility in  the  former  country.  As  these  treaties  multiplied, 
the  activity  of  the  English  cruisers  increased.  After  the  treaty 
with  Portugal,  in  1838,  the  vessels  of  that  country,  which,  with 
those  of  Spain,  were  most  largely  engaged  in  the  traffic,  began 
to  assume  the  flag  of  the  United  States  as  a  protection ;  and  hi 
many  cases,  also,  although  the  property  of  vessels  and  cargo 
had,  by  collusive  transfers  on  the  African  coast,  become  Span- 
ish or  Portuguese,  the  vessels  had  been  built  and  fitted  out  in 
the  United  States,  and  too  often,  it  may  be  feared,  with  Amer- 
ican capital.  Vessels  of  this  description  were  provided  with 
two  sets  of  papers,  to  be  used  as  occasion  might  require. 

"  Had  nothing  further  been  done  by  British  cruisers  than  to 
board  and  search  these  vessels,  whether  before  or  after  a  trans- 
fer of  this  kind,  no  complaint  would  probably  have  been  made 
by  the  government  of  the  United  States.  But,  as  many  Amer- 
ican vessels  were  engaged  in  lawful  commerce  on  the  coast  of 
Africa,  it  frequently  happened  that  they  were  boarded  by  Brit- 
ish cruisers,  not  always  under  the  command  of  discreet  officers. 
Some  voyages  were  broken  up,  officers  and  men  occasionally 
ill-treated,  and  vessels  sent  to  the  United  States  or  Sierra 
Leone  for  adjudication. 

"In  1840  an  agreement  was  made  between  the  officers  in 
command  of  the  British  and  American  squadrons  respectively, 
sanctioning  a  reciprocal  right  of  search  on  the  coast  of  Africa. 
It  was  a  well-meant,  but  unauthorized  step,  and  was  promptly 
disavowed  by  the  administration  of  Mr.  Van  Buren.  Its  op- 
eration, while  it  lasted,  was  but  to  increase  the  existing  diffi- 
culty. Reports  of  the  interruptions  experienced  by  our  com- 


346  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIEOEfe. 

merce  in  the  African  waters  began  greatly  to  multiply  ;  anJ 
there  was  a  strong  interest  on  the  part  of  those  surreptitiously 
engaged  in  the  traffic  to  give  them  currency.  A  deep  feeling 
began  to  be  manifested  in  the  country ;  and  the  correspondence 
between  the  American  minister  in  London  and  Lord  Palmers- 
ton,  in  the  last  days  of  the  Melbourne  ministry,  was  such  as  to 
show  that  the  controversy  had  reached  a  critical  point.  Such 
was  the  state  of  the  question  when  Mr.  Webster  entered  the 
department  of  state." 

Mr.  Everett  was  at  this  time  in  Europe,  as  minister  to  the 
court  of  London;  and,  notwithstanding  the  lengthy  quotation  al- 
ready made  from  him,  his  testimony  respecting  the  state  of  the 
question  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic  is  the  best  on  record,  and 
can  hardly  be  substituted  by  anything  that  can  now  be  written  : 
"  The  controversy  was  transmitted,"  he  says,  in  continuation 
of  his  account,  "to  the  new  administrations  on  both  sides  of  the 
water,  but  soon  assumed  a  somewhat  modified  character.  The 
quintuple  treaty,  as  it  was  called,  was  concluded  at  London,  on 
the  20th  of  December,  1841,  by  England,  France,  Austria, 
Prussia,  and  Russia ;  and  information  of  that  fact,  as  we  have 
seen  above,  was  given  by  Lord  Aberdeen  to  Mr.  Everett  the 
same  day.  A  strong  desire  was  intimated  that  the  United 
States  would  join  this  association  of  the  great  powers,  but  no 
formal  invitation  for  that  purpose  was  addressed  to  them.  But 
the  recent  occurrences  on  the  coast  of  Africa,  and  the  tone  of 
the  correspondence  above  alluded  to,  had  increased  the  stand- 
ing repugnance  of  the  United  States  to  the  recognition  of  a 
right  of  search  hi  time  of  peace. 

"  In  the  mean  time,  the  same  complaints,  sometimes  just, 
sometimes  exaggerated,  sometimes  groundless,  had  reached 
France  from  the  coast  of  Africa,  and  a  strong  feeling  against 
the  right  of  search  was  produced  in  that  country.  The  inci- 
dents connected  with  the  adjustment  of  the  Syrian  question,  in 
1840.  had  greatly  irritated  the  French  ministry  and  people,  and 


THE    QUINTUPLE    TREAT r.  84T 

the  present  was  deemed  a  favorable  moment  for  retaliation. 
On  the  assembling  of  the  chambers,  an  amendment  was  moved 
by  M.  Lefebvre  to  the  address  in  reply  to  the  king's  speech 
in  the  following  terms  :  '  We  have  also  the  confidence,  that, 
in  granting  its  concurrence  to  the  suppression  of  a  criminal 
traffic,  your  government  will  know  how  to  preserve  from  every 
attack  the  interests  of  our  commerce  and  the  independence  of 
our  flag.'  This  amendment  was  adopted  by  the  unanimous 
vote  of  the  chambers. 

"This  was  well  understood  to  be  a  blow  aimed  at  the  quin- 
tuple treaty.  It  was  the  most  formidable  parliamentary  check 
ever  encountered  by  M.  Guizot's  administration.  It  excited 
profound  sensation  throughout  Europe.  It  compelled  the 
French  ministry  to  make  the  painful  sacrifice  of  a  convention 
negotiated  agreeably  to  instructions,  and  not  differing  in  prin- 
ciple from  those  of  1831  and  1833,  which  were  consequently 
liable  to  be  involved  in  its  fate.  The  ratification  of  the  quin- 
tuple treaty  was  felt  to  be  out  of  the  question.  Although  it 
soon  appeared  that  the  king  was  determined  to  sustain  M. 
Guizot,  it  was  by  no  means  apparent  in  what  manner  his 
administration  was  to  be  rescued  from  the  present  embar- 
rassment. 

"  The  public  feeling  in  France  was  considerably  heightened 
by  various  documents  which  appeared  at  this  juncture,  in  con- 
nection with  the  controversy  between  the  United  States  arid 
Great  Britain.  The  president's  message  and  its  accompanying 
papers  reached  Europe  about  the  period  of  the  opening  of  the 
session.  A  very  few  days  after  the  adoption  of  M.  Lefebvre's 
amendment,  a  pamphlet,  written  by  General  Cass,  was  pub- 
lished in  Paris,  and,  being  soon  after  translated  into  French 
and  widely  circulated,  contributed  to  strengthen  the  current  of 
public  feeling.  A  more  elaborate  essay  was,  in  the  course  of 
the  season,  published  by  Mr.  Wheaton,  the  minister  of  th« 
VOL.  i.  O* 


olS  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

United  States  at  Berlin,  in  which  the  theory  of  a  right  of  search 
in  time  of  peace  was  vigorously  assailed." 

Difficult  and  tangled  as  this  question  had  become,  however,  the 
eighth  article  of  the  treaty  of  Washington  settled  it  so  completely 
and  so  easily,  that, as  in  every  similar  case  where  a  great  discovery 
is  made,  the  universal  feeling  of  the  country  and  the  world  was 
a  general  sentiment  of  wonder  that  the  discovery  had  never 
been  made  before :  "  The  parties  mutually  stipulate,"  says 
the  article  mentioned,  "  that  each  shall  prepare,  equip  and 
maintain  in  service,  on  the  coast  of  Africa,  a  sufficient  and  ade- 
quate squadron,  or  naval  force  of  vessels,  of  suitable  numbers 
and  descriptions,  to  carry  in  all  not  less  than  eight  guns,  to  en- 
force, separately  and  respectively,  the  laws,  rights,  and  obliga- 
tions of  each  of  the  two  countries,  for  the  suppression  of  the 
slave-trade ;  the  said  squadrons  to  be  independent  of  each  other, 
but  the  two  governments  stipulating,  nevertheless,  to  give  such 
orders  to  the  officers  cormnanding  their  respective  forces,  as 
shall  enable  them  most  effectually  to  act  in  concert  and  coope- 
ration, upon  mutual  consultations,  as  exigencies  may  arise,  for 
the  attainment  of  the  true  object  of  this  article ;  copies  of  all 
such  orders  to  be  communicated  by  each  government  to  the 
other,  respectively." 

The  two  countries  made  an  additional  stipulation,  in  relation 
to  other  governments,  with  a  desire  still  farther  to  act  in  con- 
cert in  suppressing  and  forever  rooting  up  this  unrighteous  traf- 
fic ;  and  it  was  a  stipulation,  which,  while  it  promised  to  secure 
its  object,  entirely  avoided  the  offensive  claim,  set  up  by  Great 
Britain,  of  a  right  of  search  :  "  Whereas,"  says  the  ninth  arti- 
cle of  iie  treaty,  "  notwithstanding  all  efforts  which  may  be 
made  on  the  coast  of  Africa  for  suppressing  the  slave-trade, 
he  facilities  for  carrying  on  that  traffic  and  avoiding  the  vigi- 
ance  of  cruisers  by  the  fraudulent  use  of  flags,  and  other  means, 
are  so  great,  and  the  temptations  for  pursuing  it,  while  a  mar 
ket  can  be  found  for  slaves,  so  strong,  as  that  the  desired  result 


EXTRADITION    Of    FUGITIVES.  348 

may  be  long  delayed,  unless  all  markets  be  shut  against  the 
purchase  of  African  negroes,  the  parties  to  this  treaty  agree, 
that  they  will  unite  in  all  becoming  representations  and  remon- 
strances with  any  and  all  powers  within  whose  dominions  such 
markets  are  allowed  to  exist ;  and  that  they  will  urge  upon  all 
such  powers  the  propriety  and  duty  of  closing  such  markets 
effectually,  at  once  and  forever."  Thus,  in  a  very  simple  and 
amicable  manner,  England  was  permitted  to  obtain  of  us  the 
quid  pro  quo  for  which  she  had  yielded  nearly  everything  in 
relation  to  the  boundary ;  and  this  very  consideration,  in  lieu 
of  which  so  much  was  gained  by  us,  was  of  vastly  less  value  to 
the  party  seeking,  than  to  the  party  granting  it. 

By  this  treaty  of  Washington,  therefore,  so  far  as  now  ex- 
plained, the  United  States  had  obtained  her  main  points  in 
relation  to  the  boundary,  and  Great  Britain  had  secured  the 
end  aimed  at  by  her  in  reference  to  the  African  slave-trade ; 
but  there  was  a  third  question,  in  which  both  countries  were 
about  equally  interested,  though,  at  the  moment,  it  was  of 
greater  immediate  consequence  to  Great  Britain.  This  was  the 
question  of  the  extradition  of  fugitives  from  justice.  Each 
country  had  been,  since  the  foundation  of  the  republic,  an  asy- 
lum for  the  criminals  of  the  other ;  and  as  both  spoke  the 
same  language,  enjoyed  nearly  the  same  laws,  and  furnished 
about  the  same  general  advantages  to  their  citizens,  a  volun- 
tary change  of  residence  from,  one  to  the  other,  the  only  price 
the  worst  of  malefactors  had  to  pay  for  security  against  all  pun 
ishment,  was  too  easy  to  admit  of  the  administration  of  thor- 
ough justice  in  either  country.  The  Canadas  were  full  of  Amer- 
^can  citizens,  who,  flying  from  just  punishment,  or  escaping  from 
the  jurisdiction  of  our  laws,  had  found  a  refuge  among  a  kin- 
dred population,  with  whom  they  could  live  as  happily  as  at 
home  ;  and  the  United  States,  on  the  other  hand,  had  received 
thousands  of  British  subjects,  who  had  committed  crimes  of  the 
deepest  dye,  but  who  had  found  it  more  agreeable  and  more 


350  WEBSTER    AND    II1£    MASTER-PIECES. 

easy  to  live  and  thrive  among  a  people  of  their  own  blood  on 
this  side,  than  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  Something, 
therefore,  which  should  entirely  relieve  the  two  countries  of 
this  common  evil,  had  been  contemplated  for  half  a  century  ; 
but  the  honor  of  achieving  what  had  been  so  long  desired, 
was  left  for  Mr.  Webster.  The  tenth  artic  e  of  his  treaty  for- 
ever settled  this  subject.  "  It  is  agreed,"  says  that  document, 
"  that  the  United  States,  and  her  Britannic  majesty  shall,  upon 
mutual  requisitions  by  them,  or  their  ministers,  officers,  or  au- 
thorities, respectively  made,  deliver  up  to  justice  all  persons 
who,  being  charged  with  the  crime  of  murder,  or  assault  with 
intent  to  commit  murder,  or  piracy,  or  arson,  or  robbery,  or 
forgery,  or  the  utterance  of  forged  papers,  committed  within 
the  jurisdiction  of  either,  shall  seek  an  asylum,  or  shall  be 
found,  within  the  territories  of  the  other:  provided  that  this 
shall  only  be  done  upon  such  evidence  of  criminality,  as,  ac- 
cording to  the  laws  of  the  place  where  the  fugitive  or  person 
so  charged  shall  be  found,  would  justify  his  apprehension  and 
commitment  for  trial,  if  the  crime  or  offense  had  there  been 
committed ;  and  the  respective  judges  and  other  magistrates 
of  the  two  governments  shall  have  power,  jurisdiction  and  au- 
thority, upon  complaint  made  under  oath,  to  issue  a  warrant 
for  the  apprehension  of  the  fugitive  or  person  so  charged,  that 
he  may  be  brought  before  such  judges  or  other  magistrates, 
respectively,  to  the  end  that  the  evidence  of  criminality  may 
be  heard  and  considered  ;  and  if,  on  such  hearing,  the  evidence 
be  deemed  sufficient  to  sustain  the  charge,  it  shall  be  the  duty 
of  the  examining  judge  or  magistrate  to  certify  the  same  to 
the  proper  executive  authority,  that  a  wan-ant  may  issue  for 
the  surrender  of  such  fugitive.  The  expense  of  such  appre- 
hension and  delivery  shall  be  borne  by  the  party  who  makes 
the  requisition,  and  receives  the  fugitive." 

In  addition  to  the  crimes  here  specified,  England  was  anx 
tous  \o  ir^ert  that  of  treason,  in  order  the  more  effectually  tr 


BURNING    OF    THE    CAROLINE.  351 

defend  herself  against  the  revolutionists  of  Ireland,  and  their 
co-laborers  within  her  immediate  limits ;  but,  had  this  been  in- 
sisted on,  it  would  have  given  a  pretext  to  the  southern  sent! 
ment  of  this  country,  which  was  ready  to  break  out  into  the 
form  and  force  of  a  demand,  of  reclaiming  fugitives  from  a 
»tate  of  slavery,  who  might  take  shelter  under  the  "banner  of 
Great  Britain.  These  two  topics,  therefore,  were  excluded  from 
the  treaty,  as  likely,  if  inserted,  to  produce  less  good  than  evil ; 
and  it  was  well  known,  too,  to  Lord  Ashbm-ton,  that  Mr.  Web- 
ster would  not  have  consented  to  any  arrangements  by  which 
British  subjects,  any  more  than  American  citizens,  should  be 
returned  to  punishment  for  political  opinions,  or  slaves,  who 
had  thus  secured  their  independence,  should  be  again  remanded 
to  a  state  of  bondage. 

These  three  were  the  leading  questions  claiming  the  atten- 
tion of  the  two  illustrious  diplomatists  ;  but  there  were  others, 
incidental  to  their  great  design  of  settling  the  prominent  dif- 
ferences between  their  governments,  which  were  of  no  less  mo- 
ment than  those  included  in  their  treaty.  The  treaty  did  not 
allude  to  the  case  of  McLeod,  nor  make  any  provision  against 
the  recurrence  of  such  cases ;  but  a  law  was  passed  by  con- 
gress, evidently  by  agreement,  and  at  the  particular  suggestion 
of  Mr.  Webster,  by  which  all  persons  charged  with  an  act 
similar  to  his  were  to  be  held  under  the  jurisdiction,  not  of 
any  single  state,  but  of  the  United  States. 

The  burning  of  the  Caroline,  within  the  limits  of  the  United 
Suites,  was  also  presented  by  Mr.  Webster  to  Lord  Ashbur- 
ton  as  a  flagrant  wrong,  which,  though  it  had  been  passed  over 
by  the  preceding  administration,  could  no  longer  be  overlooked  ; 
Lord  Ashburton  was  compelled  to  make  an  apology  to  our 
government,  in  the  name  of  his  own,  which  England  is  not  ac- 
customed to  make  to  the  greatest  powers  on  earth  ;  and  Mr. 
Webster  received  the  apology  in  a  dignified  and  yet  friendly 
manner,  at  once  securing  respect  to  our  national  character  and 


352  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

rights,  without  needlessly  wounding  the  pride  of  that  govern 
ment,  from  which  the  apology  had  come  :  "  Understanding 
these  principles  alike,"  says  the  American  secretary  to  the  Brit- 
ish minister,  "  the  difference  between  the  two  governments  is 
only  whether  the  facts  in  the  case  of  the  Caroline  make  out 
a  case  of  such  necessity  for  the  purpose  of  self-defence.  See- 
ing that  the  transaction  is  not  recent,  having  happened  in  the 
time  of  one  of  his  predecessors ;  seeing  that  your  lordship,  in 
the  name  of  your  government,  solemnly  declares  that  no  slight 
or  disrespect  was  intended  to  the  sovereign  authority  of  the 
United  States ;  seeing  that  it  is  acknowledged  that,  whether 
justifiable  or  not,  there  was  yet  a  violation  of  the  territory  of 
the  United  States,  and  that  you  are  instructed  to  say  that  your 
government  considers  that  as  a  most  serious  occurrence ;  see- 
ing, finally,  that  it  is  now  admitted  that  an  explanation  and 
apology  for  this  violation  was  due  at  the  time  ;  the  president 
is  content  to  receive  these  acknowledgments  and  assurances  in 
the  conciliatory  spirit  which  marks  your  lordship's  letter,  and 
will  make  this  subject,  as  a  complaint  of  violation  of  territory, 
the  topic  of  no  further  discussion  between  the  two  govern- 
ments." 

The  doctrine  of  impressment,  as  asserted  by  Great  Britain, 
which  had  been  the  leading  cause  in  producing  the  late  war 
between  that  country  and  the  United  States,  Mr.  Webster 
earnestly  desired  to  bring  into  the  negotiations  between  him 
and  the  British  minister ;  but  Lord  Ashburton  had  received  no 
instructions  on  that  subject.  Mr.  Webster,  however,  would 
not  let  the  occasion  pass,  without  expressing  to  the  represent- 
ative of  England  the  American  view  of  this  practice  of  im- 
pressment ;  and  he  accordingly  addressed  a  letter  to  Lord  Ash- 
burton,  in  which  he  discussed  the  whole  matter  with  his  char- 
acteristic ability.  Indeed,  it  is  doubtful  whether  there  is  a 
state  paper  of  greater  ability  in  the  language.  In  the  first 
place,  he  gives  a  h;story  of  the  subject  in  that  style  of  brevity 


DOCTRINE  OF  IMPRESSMENT.  353 

and  point  so  peculiar  to  all  his  narratives :  "  We  have  had 
several  conversations,"  he  says,  "  on  the  subject  of  impress- 
ment ;  but  I  do  not  understand  that  your  lordship  has  instruc- 
tions from  your  government  to  negotiate  upon  it ;  nor  does  the 
government  of  the  United  States  see  any  utility  in  opening 
such  negotiation,  unless  the  British  government  is  prepared  to 
renounce  the  practice  in  all  future  wars. 

"No  cause  has  produced,  to  so  great  an  extent,  and  for  so 
long  a  period,  disturbing  and  irritating  influences  in  the  politi- 
cal relations  of  the  United  States  and  England,  as  the  impress- 
ment of  seamen  by  British  cruisers  from  American  merchant 
vessels. 

"  From  the  commencement  of  the  French  revolution  to  the 
breaking  out  of  the  war  between  the  two  countries,  in  1812, 
hardly  a  year  elapsed  without  loud  complaint  and  earnest  re- 
monstrance. A  deep  feeling  of  opposition  to  the  right  claimed, 
and  to  the  practice  exercised  under  it,  and  not  unfrequently  ex- 
ercised without  the  least  regard  to  what  justice  and  humanity 
would  have  dictated,  even  if  the  right  itself  had  been  admitted, 
took  possession  of  the  public  mind  of  America ;  and  this  feel- 
ing, it  is  well  known,  cooperated  most  powerfully  with  other 
causes,  to  produce  the  state  of  hostilities  which  ensued. 

"  At  different  periods,  both  before  and  since  the  war,  nego- 
tiations have  taken  place  between  the  two  governments,  with 
the  hope  of  finding  some  means  of  quieting  these  complaints.  At 
some  times,  the  effectual  abolition  of  the  practice  has  been  re- 
quested and  treated  of;  at  other  times,  its  temporary  suspen- 
sion ;  and  at  other  times,  again,  the  limitation  of  its  exercise, 
and  some  swurity  against  its  enormous  abuses. 

"  A  common  destiny  has  attended  these  efforts.  They  have 
all  failed.  The  question  stands  at  this  moment  where  it  stood 
fifty  years  ago.  The  nearest  approach  to  a  settlement  was  a 
convention  proposed  in  1803,  and  which  had  come  to  the  point 
of  signature,  when  it  was  broken  off  in  consequence  of  tha 


<J54  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES 

British  government  insisting  that  the  narrow  seas  should  be  ex 
pressly  excepted  out  of  the  sphere  over  which  the  contemplated 
stipulation  against  impressment,  should  extend.  The  Ameri- 
can minister,  Mr.  King,  regarded  this  exception  as  quite  inad- 
missible, and  chose  rather  to  abandon  the  negotiation  than  to 
acquiesce  in  the  doctrine  which  it  proposed  to  establish." 

The  claim,  as  set  up  by  England,  is  then  clearly  stated : 
"  England  asserts  the  right  of  impressing  British  subjects,  in 
time  of  war,  out  of  neutral  merchant-vessels,  and  of  deciding, 
by  her  visiting  officers  who,  among  the  crews  of  such  merchant- 
vessels,  are  British  subjects.  She  asserts  this  as  a  legal  exer- 
cise of  the  prerogative  of  the  crown,  which  prerogative  is  al- 
leged to  be  founded  on  the  English  law  of  the  perpetual  and 
indissoluble  allegiance  of-  the  subject,  and  his  obligation,  under 
all  circumstances,  and  for  his  whole  life,  to  render  military  ser- 
vice to  the  crown  whenever  required." 

To  this  doctrine,  the  American  secretary  next  applies  a 
searching  scrutiny,  and  a  severe  logic.  He  denies  the  English 
claim,  openly  and  plainly,  first,  because  it  is  extending  the  mu- 
nicipal laws  of  England  beyond  its  own  territorial  limits,  which 
is  contrary  to  the  universally  acknowledged  law  of  nations ; 
secondly,  because  the  claim  is  based,  not  on  any  law  generally 
established  by  other  nations,  as  a  part  of  their  own  municipal 
system,  but  on  the  municipal  law  of  England  only  ;  thirdly, 
because  England,  whose  policy  and  practice  it  had  been  to  en- 
courage emigration,  could  not,  in  consistency,  after  she  had 
crowded  or  helped  off  her  overplus  of  population,  turn  round 
and  reclaim  the  persons  thus  given  up,  and  particularly  when 
tfiey  had  been  received,  protected  and  supported,  in  whole  or 
in  part,  by  the  country  which  had  furnished  them  an  asylum  ; 
fourthly,  because  the  claim  asserts  a  right  of  searching  the  mer- 
chant-vessels of  other  countries,  a  claim  which  is  in  direct  con- 
flict with  the  political  sovereignty  of  the  nations  whose  vessels 
ore  thus  visited  ;  fifthly,  beca  ise  the  practice  is  a  serious  det- 


CONCESSIONS    OF    GREAT    BRITAIN.  355 

nment  to  commerce,  by  interposing  an  impediment  to  the  effi- 
cient manning  of  commercial  vessels  ;  and  finally,  because  ex- 
perience has  shown,  as  all  future  experience  must  show,  that 
any  attempt  to  carry  out  this  doctrine,  on  the  shipping  of  a  neu- 
tral power,  will  only  result,  in  every  case,  in  bad  feeling,  in  a 
sentiment  of  hostility,  or  in  actual  war  :  "  In  the  early  disputes 
between  the  two  governments,"  says  the  secretory,  "  on  this  so 
long  contested  topic,  the  distinguished  person,  [referring  to  Mr. 
Jefferson,]  to  whose  hands  were  first  intrusted  the  seals  of  this 
department,  declared  that  '  the  simplest  rule  will  be,  that  the 
vessel  being  American  shall  be  evidence  that  the  seamen  on 
board  are  such.'  Fifty  years'  experience,  the  utter  failure  of 
many  negotiations,  and  a  careful  reconsideration,  now  had,  of 
the  whole  subject,  at  a  moment  when  the  passions  are  laid,  and 
no  present  interest  or  emergency  exists  to  bias  the  judgment, 
have  fully  convinced  this  government  that  this  is  not  only  the 
simplest  and  best,  but  the  only  rule,  which  can  be  adopted  and 
observed,  consistently  with  the  rights  and  honor  of  the  United 
States,  and  the  security  of  their  citizens.  That  rule  announces, 
therefore,  what  will  hereafter  be  the  principle  maintained  by 
their  government.  In  every  regularly  documented  American 
merchant-vessel,  the  crew  who  navigate  it  will  find  their  pro- 
tection in  the  flag  which  is  over  them." 

Mr.  Webster,  in  fact,  took  higher  ground  than  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son  ;  and  Lord  Ashburton,  by  no  means  turning  a  deaf  ear  to 
the  representations  and  demands  of  the  American  secretary,  as 
had  been  done  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  assures  Mr.  Webster  tl-.it  his 
communication  should  be  immediately  transmitted  to  the  Brit- 
ish government,  where  it  would  be  sure  to  "  receive  from  hem 
that  deliberate  attention  which  its  importance  deserves;  "  that 
w  no  differences  have  or  could  have  arisen  of  late  year^  with 
respect  to  impressment,  because  the  practice  has,  sin-,o  the 
peace,  wholly  ceased,  and  cannot,  under  existing  laws  aiu  reg- 
ulations for  manning  her  majesty's  navy,  be  under  the  p-»csent 
VOL.  T.  23 


WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

circumstances,  renewed ; "  and  that  "  it  must  be  admitted  thai 
a  serious  practical  question  does  arise,  or,  rather,  has  existed, 
li-om  practices  formerly  attending  the  mode  of  manning  the 
British  navy  in  times  of  war." 

The  British  envoy  goes  even  still  farther  with  his  conces- 
sions. "The  very  anomalous  condition  of  the  two  countries," 
says  he,  "with  relation  to  each  other,  creates  a  serious  diffi- 
culty. Our  people  are  not  distinguishable ;  and,  owing  to  the 
peculiar  habits  of  sailors,  our  vessels  are  very  generally  man- 
ned from  a  common  stock.  It  is  difficult,  under  these  circum- 
stances, to  execute  laws,  which  at  times  have  been  thought  es- 
sential for  the  existence  of  the  country,  without  risk  of  injury 
to  others.  The  extent  and  importance  of  those  injuries,  how- 
ever, are  so  formidable,  that  it  is  admitted  that  some  remedy 
should,  if  possible,  be  applied ;  at  all  events,  it  must  be  fairly 
and  honestly  attempted.  It  is  true,  that  during  the  continu- 
ance of  peace,  no  practical  grievance  can  arise ;  but  it  is  also 
true  that  it  is  for  that  reason  the  proper  season  for  the  calm 
and  deliberate  consideration  of  an  important  subject.  I  have 
much  reason  to  hope,  that  a  satisfactory  arrangement  respect- 
ing  it  may  be  made,  so  as  to  set  at  rest  all  apprehension  and 
anxiety  ;  and  I  will  only  further  repeat  the  assurance  of  the  sin- 
cere disposition  of  my  government  favorably  to  consider  all 
matters  having  for  their  object  the  promoting  and  maintaining 
undisturbed  kind  and  friendly  feelings  with  the  United  States." 

Thus,  the  British  minister  at  last,  under  the  commanding  in- 
fluence and  resistless  pressure  of  the  great  mind  of  his  Ameri- 
can associate,  virtually  yields,  even  though  not  instructed  by  his 
government,  the  most  fondly  cherished  and  venerable  maxim 
of  the  English  fundamental  law,  to  the  support  of  which  Eng- 
land had  sacrificed  blood  and  treasure,  through  a  three-years 
war,  and  whbh  she  had  maintained,  at  the  cannon's  mouth,  since 
the  origin  of  her  naval  supremacy,  in  every  quarter  of  the 
globe. 


TREATY    OK    WASHINGTON.  857 

Sr.cK  is  a  brief  sketch  of  the  topics,  which  came  before  tho 
two  illustrious  diplomatists,  and  which  constitute  the  substaneu 
of  the  celebrated  treaty  of  Washington,  and  the  accompanying 
correspondence.  The  treaty  itself,  the  result  of  four  months 
incessant  and  severe  labor,  was  communicated  to  the  senate,  in 
a  message  written  by  Mr.  Webster  in  the  name  of  Mr.  Tyler. 
on  the  llth  of  August,  1842;  and,  on  motion  of  Mr.  Hives, 
it  was  referred  at  once  to  the  committee  on  foreign  relations, 
who  reported  it  back,  without  amendment,  on  the  15th  of  Au- 
gust. It  was  made  the  order  of  the  day  for  the  17th  ;  and,  on 
that  and  the  three  following  days,  it  was  ably  discussed  by  some 
of  the  leading  statesmen  of  the  country.  On  the  last  day  of 
the  discussion,  again  on  motion  of  Mr.  Rives,  it  was  ratified  by 
the  senate  by  a  vote  of  thirty -nine  to  nine ;  and  the  bills  for 
carrrying  it  into  effect,  in  the  house  and  in  the  senate,  were 
soon  after  passed,  by  majorities  still  more  decisive  of  its  popu- 
larity. In  this  way,  the  most  difficult  questions  that  had  ever 
arisen,  since  the  American  revolution,  to  perplex  the  relations 
of  the  two  great  nations  of  modern  history,  were  forever  laid 
to  rest ;  and  the  peace  of  the  two  countries  was  established  on 
a  basis  of  mutual  concession,  a  basis  seldom  acknowledged  by 
Great  Britain  in  her  previous  connections  with  us,  which  no- 
thing but  the  most  urgent  reasons,  on  the  one  or  the  other  side, 
can  at  any  future  period  disturb. 

The  treaty  of  Washington  gave  general  satisfaction,  at  the 
time  of  its  ratification,  in  every  portion  of  the  Union.  East 
and  west,  north  and  south,  it  was  about  equally  popular.  On 
the  30th  of  September,  1842,  by  invitation  of  the  lea-iing  citi- 
zens of  Boston,  Mr.  Webster  met  his  fellow-citizens  in  a  public 
manner,  in  Faneuil  Hall  ;  and  he  there  made  a  speech,  in  re- 
lation to  such  public  matters  as  stood  connected  with  his  ad- 
ministration of  the  department  of  state  under  the  presidency 
of  General  Harrison  and  Mr.  Tyler.  Mr.  Jonathan  Chapman, 
thec  mayor  of  the  city,  presided,  and  made  the  speech  intro 


358  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTEK-PIKCE8. 

ducing  Mr.  Webster;  and,  in  the  course  of  his  remarks,  he 
gave  utterance  to  the  feelings  of  the  citizens  of  Massachusetts 
in  relation  to  this  period  of  the  life  of  the  distinguished  guest, 
as  well  as  to  his  general  character  as  the  long-tried  and  trusted 
representative  of  his  adopted  state :  "  It  is  to  your  eminent 
services,  sir,''  said  the  mayor,  after  having  spoken  of  him  as 
the  representative  and  senator  from  that  city  and  state,  "  on 
this  broader  field  which  you  have  lately  occupied,  that  we  look 
this  day  with  special  pride  and  admiration.  Sir,  in  simple  but 
heart-felt  language,  we  thank  you  for  the  honorable  attitude  in 
which,  so  far  as  your  department  has  been  concerned,  you  have 
placed  your  country  before  the  world.  Would  to  God  that  it 
stood  as  we.ll  in  other  respects.  In  the  many  emergencies  in 
our  foreign  relations,  which  the  two  past  years  have  presented, 
you  have  been  faithful  throughout  to  the  true  interests  and 
honor  of  the  country,  and  nowhere  in  its  archives  can  abler, 
manlier,  wiser,  or  more  dignified  papers  be  found,  than  those 
which  bear  your  signature. 

"  When  the  dark  cloud  lowered  upon  our  neighboring  fron- 
tier, when  a  great  and  fundamental  law  of  nations  had  well- 
nigh  yielded  to  popular  passion,  when  a  single  step,  only,  in- 
tervened between  us  and  a  war  that  must  have  been  disastrous 
as  it  would  have  found  us  in  the  wrong,  it  was  your  wise  and 
energetic  interference  that  dispelled  the  storm,  by  seeking  to 
make  us  just,  even  under  galling  provocation. 

"  When  a  gasconading  upstart  from  a  neighboring  republic, 
so  called,  presumed  to  address  to  this  government,  a  commu- 
nication worthy  only  of  its  owner,  but  which  no  one  of  his  co- 
adjutors was  bold  enough  to  present  in  person,  one  firm  and 
dignified  look  from  our  own  secretary  of  state,  a  single  sweep 
ol  his  powerful  arm,  relieved  the  country  from  any  further 
specimens  of  Mexican  diplomacy. 

"And,  crowning  act  of  all,  when,  amidst  the  numerous  and 
perplexing  questions  which  had  so  long  disturbed  the  har 


POPULARITY  OF  THE  TREATY.  359 

mony  of  two  nations,  whom  God  meant  should  always  be 
friends,  England  sent  forth  her  ambassador  of  compromise 
and  peace,  you  met  him  like  a  man.  Subtle  diplomacy  and 
political  legerdemain,  you  threw  to  the  winds  ;  and,  taking  only 
for  your  guides  simple  honesty,  common  sense  and  a  Christian 
spirit,  behold,  by  their  magic  influence,  there  is  not  a  cloud  in 
the  common  heavens  above  us,  but  only  the  glad  and  cheering 
sunlight  of  friendship  and  peace. 

"  We  have  already,  sir,  on  this  same  spot,  expressed  our  ap- 
probation of  this  treaty  with  England,  while  paying  a  merited 
tribute  of  respect  to  the  distinguished  representative  of  that 
country,  who  was  associated  with  you  in  its  adjustment.  WG 
repeat  to  you  our  satisfaction  with  the  result,  and  with  the 
magnanimous  spirit  by  which  it  was  accomplished.  We  may 
now  add,  as  we  might  not  then,  that  we  know  not  the  other 
individual,  within  the  limits  of  the  country,  who  could  have  so 
successfully  achieved  this  happy  event. 

"  We  are  aware,  sir,  that  this  treaty  is  not  yet  completed, 
but  that  ^an  important  act  [its  ratification  by  England]  is  yet 
necessary  for  its  accomplishment.  We  anticipate  no  such  re- 
sult, and  yet  it  may  be  that  still  farther  work  is  necessary  for 
the  crowning  of  our  hopes.  You  have  brought  skill  and  labor, 
aye,  and  self-sacrifice  too,  to  this  great  work,  we  know.  And 
whatever  may  befall  the  country,  in  this  or  any  other  matter, 
we  are  sure  that  you  will  be  ready  to  sacrifice  everything  for 
her  good,  save  honor.  And,  on  that  point,  amidst  the  perplex- 
ities of  these  perplexing  times,  we  shall  be  at  ease ;  for  we 
know  that  he  who  has  so  nobly  maintained  his  country's  honor, 
may  safely  be  trusted  with  his  own." 

Similar  sentiments  prevailed  throughout  New-England,  and 
throughout  the  country,  at  the  time  of  the  ratification  of  the 
treaty  ;  and  they  continued  to  prevail,  in  all  parts  of  the  Union, 
from  that  time  forward.  In  the  spring  of  1847,  on  occasion 
of  his  visit  to  some  of  the  southern  states,  Mr.  Webster  was 


300  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

publicly  received  at  Richmond,  Charleston,  Columbia,  Augusta 
and  Savannah ;  and  in  each  of  these  places,  he  was  compli- 
mented in  the  highest  terms,  for  his  distinguished  services  tc 
the  country,  as  the  head  of  Mr.  Tyler's  cabinet.  At  Charles- 
ton, even,  the  chief  city  of  South  Carolina,  whose  peculiar  poli- 
tics Mr.  Webster  had  been  called  upon,  as  a  public  man,  to 
oppose  through  every  period  of  his  life,  he  was  applauded  for 
an  act,  or  series  of  acts,  for  which  his  enemies  could  find  no- 
thing due  him  but  applause:  "As  representatives  of  our  fellow- 
citizens  of  Charleston,"  said  the  Hon.  Franklin  H.  Elmore, 
chairman  of  th3  committee  of  arrangements,  at  the  ceremony 
of  the  reception,  "  we  wait  upon  you  to  tender  their  welcome 
and  good  wishes.  Having  heard  that  it  was  your  intention  to 
pass  through  their  city,  in  a  tour  through  the  southern  states, 
undertaken  to  obtain,  by  personal  observation,  a  better  knowl- 
edge of  their  people,  pursuits  and  interests,  the  citizens  of 
Charleston,  laying  as;de  all  differences  of  political  opinion,  in  a 
common  desire  to  further  your  wishes,  and  to  render  your  visit 
agreeable,  assembled  and  unanimously  delegated  to  us  the 
pleasing  duty  of  expressing  to  you  the  great  satisfaction  of  thus 
meeting  you  in  their  homes.  Although  they  well  know  there 
are  essential  differences  of  opinion  between  a  great  majority  of 
them  and  yourself,  and  the  great  commonwealth  of  which  you 
are  the  trusted  and  distinguished  representative  in  the  councils 
of  the  nation,  yet,  on  this  occasion,  they  remember,  with  far 
more  pleasure,  that,  whilst  at  the  head  of  the  state  department 
you  watched  \vlth  fidelity  over  other  sections  of  the  Union; 
that  the  south  was  not  neglected,  but  her  interests  and  her 
rights  found  in  you  an  able  and  impartial  vindicator ;  that 
you  made,  amongst  other  public  services,  great  and  successful 
elFurts  to  preserve  our  relations  in  peace  and  harmony  with  the 
most  free  and  powerful  nation  of  the  old  world ;  and  that 
woi'e  you  served  the  general  cause  of  humanity  and  civiliz* 


DIFFICULTIES    OF    THE    SECRETARYSHIP.  361 

*ion  in  so  doing,  you  at  the  same  time  sustained  the  honoi 
and  promoted  the  best  interests  of  our  common  country." 

At  Savannah  he  was  addressed,  in  behalf  of  the  citizens  of 
Georgia,  by  Mr.  Justice  Wayne,  who,  after  acknowledging  the 
unrivaled  talents  and  extraordinary  services  of  Mr.  Webster, 
dwelt  with  emphasis  on  the  wisdom  and  success  of  his  secreta- 
ryship :  "  Nor  must  we  permit  this  occasion  to  pass  without 
noticing  your  administration  of  the  state  department.  We  of 
the  south,  as  a  very  large  portion  of  your  fellow-citizens  did 
everywhere,  recognize,  in  what  was  then  done,  practical  ability 
remarkably  suited  to  the  time  of  action,  with  a  comprehensive 
support  of  every  American  interest  and  right,  domestic  and 
foreign." 

Such  eulogiums,  at  the  time  now  under  consideration,  met 
Mr.  Webster  everywhere.  His  career  as  a  diplomatist,  though 
brief,  was  pure,  patriotic,  brilliant.  It  was  entirely  and  even 
wonderfully  successful.  It  was  really  a  wonder,  among  intel- 
ligent men,  and  always  will  remain  a  wonder,  how  such  nego- 
tiations could  be  carried  through,  when  everything,  at  home  at 
least,  seemed  to  be  against  him.  The  difficulties  of  his  posi- 
i.ion,  as  secretary  of  state,  have  been  quite  correctly  stated  by 
Uie  Hon.  John  C.  Spencer  :  "  When  he  first  assumed  the  du- 
ties of  the  department  of  state,  war  was  lowering  on  our  hori- 
zon like  a  black  cloud,  ready  to  launch  its  thunderbolts  around 
us.  The  alarming  state  of  our  foreign  relations  at  that  time  is 
shown  in  the  extraordinary  fact,  that  the  appropriation  bills 
passed  by  congress,  at  the  close  of  Mr.  Van  Buren's  adminis- 
tration, contained  an  unusual  provision,  authorizing  the  presi- 
lent  to  transfer  them  to  military  purposes.  In  a  few  months 
after  our  guest  took  the  matter  in  hand  " — Mr.  Webster  was, 
,it  this  time,  partaking  of  a  public  dinner  given  him  by  the 
young  men  of  Albany — "  the  celebrated  treaty  with  Lord  Ash- 
burton  wa;  concluded,  by  which  the  irritating  question  of 
boundary  was  settled,  every  difficulty  then  known  or  ariticipa- 


302  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

ted  was  adjusted,  among  others,  the  detestable  claim  to  search 
our  vessels  for  British  seamen  was  renounced." 

Mr.  Spencer,  though  accurate  enough  for  the  ordinary  pur- 
poses of  a  speech  at  a  public  festival,  speaks  rather  too  strongly, 
toward  the  conclusion  of  this  paragraph,  for  the  severe  demands 
of  history.  Every  difficulty  then  known  or  anticipated  was  not 
adjusted.  Some  of  them  were  not  even  brought  into  the  ne- 
gotiations. The  boundary  line  itself  was  traced  only  to  the 
base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains ;  and  the  whole  of  what  was  af- 
terwards known  as  the  Oregon  question,  was  left  where  Mr. 
Webster  found  it.  Still,  the  compliment,  as  a  whole,  was 
richly  merited.  The  time  had  not  come  for  the  settlement  of 
the  Oregon  boundary.  Lord  Ashburton  was  not  prepared  to 
yield  what  America  demanded ;  and  Mr.  Webster  was  not  to 
be  satisfied  with  less  than  what  was  undeniably  due  his  coun 
try.  The  same  considerations  apply  equally  to  some  other 
matters  of  minor  importance  not  included  in  the  treaty.  The 
treaty,  as  it  stands,  however,  contained  much  more  than  the 
most  sanguine  had  expected  ;  and  when  all  the  circumstances 
surrounding  Mr.  Webster,  at  the  time  he  was  at  work  in  its 
negotiation,  were  taken  into  view,  it  was  doubted,  by  many  of 
the  most  experienced  of  our  statesmen,  whether  anything  at  all 
would  be  accomplished. 

"  In  connection  with  this  treaty,"  continues  Mr.  Spencer,  and 
with  the  most  unqualified  historical  accuracy,  "  I  take  this  oc 
casion,  the  first  that  has  presented  itself,  to  relate  some  facts 
which  are  not  generally  known.  The  then  administration  had 
no  strength  in  congress.  It  could  command  no  support  for  any 
of  its  measures.  This  was  an  obstacle  sufficiently  formidable 
in  itself;  but  Mr.  Webster  had  to  deal  with  a  feeble  and  way 
ward  president,  an  unfriendly  senate,  a  hostile  house  of  repre 
sentatives,  and  an  accomplished  British  diplomatist.  I  speak 
of  what  I  personally  know,  when  I  say,  that  never  was  a  nego 
tiation  surrounded  with  greater  or  more  perplexing  difficul 


ATTACKS    ON    MR.   WEBSTER.  303 

He  had  at  least  three  parties  to  negotiate  witl  instead  of  one, 
to  say  nothing  of  Massachusetts  and  Maine,  wh  ;  had  to  be  con- 
sulted in  relation  to  a  boundary  that  affected  their  territory." 

To  these  facts  it  should  be  added,  that  the  consent  of  all  the 
commissioners  was  made,  by  Maine  and  Massachusetts,  the 
condition  of  their  acceptance  of  whatever  might  be  the  result 
of  the  negotiation.  The  secretary,  therefore,  after  obtaining  the 
consent  of  his  profound  and  skillful  co-diplomatist,  which  was 
no  easy  thing  where  English  rights  were  in  dispute,  had  to  ob- 
tain the  unanimous  approval  of  six  gentlemen,  who  were  ap- 
pointed expressly  to  guard  the  interests  of  two  independent 
states,  and  then  procure  a  constitutional  vote  in  a  senate  known 
to  hold  the  administration,  of  which  he  was  chief  minister,  in 
contempt.  "  You  know  the  result,"  says  Mr.  Spencer  to  the 
young  men  of  Albany.  "  Glorious  as  it  was  to  our  country, 
how  glorious  was  it  also  to  the  pilot,  that  guided  the  ship 
through  such  difficulties  !  " 

With  whatever  of  glory,  however,  this  portion  of  Mr.  Web 
sters  career  as  a  statesman  is  justly  covered,  there  have  not 
been  wanting,  there  were  not  wanting  at  the  moment  of  his 
great  triumph,  a  class  of  men  who  could  not  see  so  much  honor 
awarded  to  a  single  individual.  Aristides  was  banished  by  the 
populace  of  Athens,  because  his  rivals  could  not  bear  to  hear 
him  everywhere  called  Aristides  the  Just.  Too  much  reputa- 
tion, it  is  sad  to  say,  sometimes  weakens  a  man's  position.  It 
was  nearly  so  with  Mr.  Webster  at  this  period  of  his  life.  At 
home,  in  Massachusetts,  in  Boston,  he  was  covertly  assailed  by 
a  convention  of  whigs,  who  had  met  to  make  nominations  for 
the.  leading  offices  of  the  state.  Without  particularly  mention- 
ing Mr.  Webster,  who  was  still  a  member  of  Mr.  Tyler's  cab- 
inet, and  who  remained  in  office  about  two  years  after  all  his 
associates  had  indignantly  resigned  their  places,  this  convention 
published  to  the  world  a  formal  vote  of  separation,  hi  behalf 
?f  the  whig  party  of  the  commonwealth,  frcm  the  president  o/ 
VOL.  i.  P 


R04  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

the  United  States.  It  was  to  meet  the  moral  force  of  this  dec 
laration  that  the  meeting  before  mentioned,  held  in  Faneuil 
Hall  on  the  30th  of  September,  1842,  was  called  ;  and  it  was  at 
that  meeting  that  Mr.  Webster  made  his  first  defence  of  himself, 
and  of  his  secretaryship,  before  the  country  and  the  world. 
His  speech  was  exceedingly  able ;  and,  while  it  constituted  a 
triumphant  vindication  of  his  administration,  it  was  a  most  with- 
ering rebuke  to  the  members  of  the  convention,  and  to  all  who 
had  sympathized  with  it  in  its  attack  on  him  :  "  There  were 
many  persons,  hi  September,  1841,"  said  the  orator,  "  who 
found  great  fault  with  my  remaining  in  the  president's  cabinet. 
You  know,  gentlemen^  that  twenty  years  of  honest,  and  not  al- 
together undistinguished  service  in  the  whig  cause,  did  not  save 
me  from  an  outpouring  of  wrath,  which  seldom  proceeds  from 
whig  pens  and  whig  tongues  against  anybody.  I  am,  gentle- 
men, a  little  hard  to  coax,  but  as  to  being  driven,  that  is  out 
of  the  question.  1  chose  to  trust  my  own  judgment,  and  think- 
ing I  was  at  a  post  where  I  was  in  the  service  of  the  country, 
and  could  do  it  good,  1  staid  there.  And  I  leave  it  to  you  to- 
day to  say,  I  leave  it  to  my  country  to  say,  whether  the  coun- 
try would  have  been  better  off  if  I  had  left  also.  I  have  no  at- 
tachment to  office.  I  have  tasted  of  its  sweets,  but  I  have  tasted 
of  its  bitterness.  I  am  content  with  what  I  have  achieved  ;  I 
am  more  ready  to  rest  satisfied  with  what  is  gained,  than  to 
run  the  risk  of  doubtful  efforts  for  new  acquisition. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  pause  here.  I  ought,  perhaps,  to 
allude  to  nothing  more,  and  I  will  not  allude  to  anything  fur- 
ther than  it  may  be  supposed  to  concern  myself,  directly  or  by 
implication.  Gentlemen,  and  Mr.  Mayor,  a  most  respectable 
convention  of  whig  delegates  met  in  this  place  a  few  days  since, 
and  passed  very  important  resolutions.  There  is  no  set  of 
gentlemen  hi  the  commonwealth,  so  far  as  I  know  them,  who 
have  more  of  my  respect  and  regard.  They  are  whigs,  but 
they  are  no  better  whigs  than  I  am.  They  have  served  the 


KEPLY    TO    THEIR    ATTACKS.  36fl 

country  in  the  whig  ranks ;  so  have  I,  quite  as  1  ng  as  ix.ost  of 
them,  though  perhaps  with  less  ability  and  success.     Their  res- 
olutions on  political  subjects,  as  representing  the  whigs  of  the 
state,  are  entitled  to  respect,  so  far  as  they  were  authorized  to 
express  opinion  on  those  subjects,  and  no  further.     They  were 
sent  hither,  as  I  supposed,  to  agree  upon  candidates  for  the 
offices  of  governor  and  lieutenant-governor  for  the  support  of 
the  whigs  of  Massachusetts ;  and  if  they  had  any  authority  to 
speak  in  the  name  of  the  whigs  of  Massachusetts  to  any  other 
purport  or  intent,  I  have  not  been  informed  of  it.     I  feel  very 
little  disturbed  by  any  of  those  proceedings,  of  whatever  na- 
ture ;  but  some  of  them  appear  to  me  to  have  been  inconsid- 
erate and  hasty,  and  their  point  and  bearing  can  hardly  be  mis- 
taken.    I  notice  among  others,  a  declaration  made,  in  behalf 
of  all  the  whigs  of  this  commonwealth,  of  '  a  full  and  final  sep- 
aration from  the  president  of  the  United  States.'     If  those  gen- 
tlemen saw  fit  to  express  their  own  sentiments  to  that  extent, 
there  was  no  objection.     Whigs  speak  their  sentiments  every, 
where ;  but  whether  they  may  assume  a  privilege  to  speak  for 
others  on  a  point  on  which  those  others  have  not  given  them 
authority,  is  another  question.     I  am  a  whig,  I  always  have 
been  a  whig,  and  I  always  will  be  one ;  and  if  there  are  any 
who  would  turn  me  out  of  the  pale  of  that  communion,  let  them 
see  who  will  get  out  first.     I  am  a  Massachusetts  whig,  a  Fan- 
euil  Hall  whig,  having  breathed  this  air  for  five-and-twenty 
years,  and  meaning  to  breathe  it,  as  long  as  my  life  is  spared. 
I  am  ready  to  submit  to  all  decisions  of  whig  conventions  on 
subjects  on  which  they  are  authorized  to  make  decisions ;  I 
know  that  great  party  good  and  great  public  good  can  only  be 
so  obtained.     But  it  is  quite  another  question  whether  a  set  of 
gentlemen,  however  respectable  they  may  be  as  individuals, 
shall  have  the  power  to  bind  me  on  matters  which  I  have  not 
agreed  to  submit  to  their  decision  at  all. 

"'A  full  and  final  separation'  is  declared  between  tho  whig 


306  «  EBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

party  of  Massachusetts  and  the  president.  That  is  the  text 
it  requires  a  commentary.  What  does  it  mean  ?  The  presi 
dent  of  the  United  States  has  three  years  of  his  term  of  office 
yet  unexpired.  Does  this  declaration  mean,  then,  that  during 
those  three  years  all  the  measures  of  his  administration  are  tc 
be  opposed  by  the  great  body  of  the  whig  party  of  Massachu- 
setts, whether  they  are  right  or  wrong  ?  There  are  great  pub- 
lic interests  which  require  his  attention.  If  the  president  of  the 
United  States  should  attempt,  by  negotiation,  or  by  earnest 
and  serious  application  to  congress,  to  make  some  change  in  the 
present  arrangements,  such  as  should  be  of  service  to  those  in- 
terests of  navigation  which  are  concerned  in  the  colonial  trade, 
are  the  whigs  of  Massachusetts  to  give  him  neither  aid  nor  suc- 
cor ?  If  the  president  of  the  United  States  shall  direct  the 
proper  department  to  review  the  whole  commercial  policy  of 
the  United  States,  in  respect  of  reciprocity  in  the  indirect  trade, 
to  which  so  much  of  our  tonnage  is  now  sacrificed,  if  the  amend- 
ment of  this  policy  shall  be  undertaken  by  him,  is  there  such  a 
separation  between  him  and  the  whigs  of  Massachusetts  as  shall 
lead  them  and  their  representatives  to  oppose  it?  Do  you 
know  (there  are  gentlemen  now  here  who  do  know)  that  a 
large  proportion,  I  rather  think  more  than  one  half,  of  the  car- 
rying trade  between  the  empire  of  Brazil  and  the  United  States 
is  enjoyed  by  tonnage  from  the  north  of  Europe,  in  consequence 
of  this  ill-considered  principle  with  regard  to  reciprocity  1  You 
might  just  as  well  admit  them  into  the  coasting  trade.  By 
this  arrangement,  we  take  the  bread  out  of  our  children's 
mouths  and  give  it  to  strangers.  I  appeal  to  you,  sir,  (turning 
to  Captain  Benjamin  Rich,  who  sat  by  him,)  is  not  this  true  ? 
(Mr.  Rich  at  once  replied,  True !)  Is  every  measure  of  this 
sort,  for  the  relief  of  such  abuses,  to  be  rejected  1  Are  we  to 
suffer  ourselves  to  remain  inactive  under  every  grievance  of 
this  kind  until  these  three  years  shall  expire,  and  through  a? 


SECOND    REPLY.  367 

many  more  as  shall  pass  until  Providence  shall  bless  us  with 
more  power  of  doing  good  than  we  have  now? 

"  Again,  there  are  now  in  this  state  persons  employed  under 
government,  allowed  to  be  pretty  good  whigs,  still  holding  their 
offices  ;  collectors,  district-attorneys,  postmasters,  marshals. 
What  is  to  become  of  them  in  this  separation  ?  Which  side 
are  they  to  fall '?  Are  they  to  resign  ?  or  is  this  resolution  to 
be  held  up  to  government  as  an  invitation  or  a  provocati< in  to 
turn  them  out  1  Our  distinguished  fellow-citizen,  who,  with  so 
much  credit  to  himself  and  to  his  country,  represents  our  gov- 
ernment in  England, — is  he  expected  to  come  home,  on  this 
separation,  and  yield  his  place  to  his  predecessor,  or  to  some- 
body else  1  And  in  regard  to  the  individual  who  addresses 
you,  —  what  do  his  brother  whigs  mean  to  do  with  him? 
Where  do  they  mean  to  place  me  ?  Generally,  when  a  dr- 
vorce  bikes  place,  the^parties  divide  their  children.  I  am  an.\ 
ious  to  know  where,  in  the  case  of  this  divorce,  I  shall  fall. 
This  declaration  announces  a  full  and  final  separation  between 
the  whigs  of  Massachusetts  and  the  president.  If  I  choose 
to  remain  in  the  president's  councils,  do  these  gentlemen 
mean  to  say  that  I  cease  to  be  a  Massachusetts  whig  ?  1 
am  quite  ready  to  put  that  question  to  the  people  of  Massa 
chusetts." 

Subsequently,  in  his  address  to  the  whig  convention  at  An 
dover,  on  the  9th  of  November,  1843,  Mr.  Webster  was  again 
called  upon,  as  he  thought,  to  defend  himself  in  regard  to  his 
remaining  in  Mr.  Tyler's  cabinet,  because  the  committee  invi 
ting  him  to  be  present  had  alluded  to  his  course  in  this  respect, 
though  with  approbation  :  "  I  am  aware  that  there  are  many 
persons  in  the  country,"  said  Mr.  Webster,  "  having  feelings 
not  unfriendly  toward  me,  personally,  and  entertaining  all  proper 
respect  for  my  public  character,  who  yet  think  I  ought  to  have 
left  the  cabinet  with  my  colleagues.  I  do  not  complain  of  any 


WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

fair  exercise  of  opinion  in  this  respect ;  and  if,  by  such  persons 
as  I  have  referred  to,  explanation  be  desired  of  any  thing  in  the 
past,  or  any  thing  in  my  present  opinions,  it  will  be  readily 
given.  On  the  other  hand,  those  who  deal  only  in  coarse  vi- 
tuperation, and  satisfy  their  sense  of  candor  and  justice  simply 
by  the  repetition  of  the  charge  of  dereliction  of  duty,  and  infi- 
delity to  whig  principles,  are  not  entitled  to  the  respect  of  an 
answer  from  me.  The  burning  propensity  to  censure  and  re- 
proach by  which  such  persons  seem  to  be  actuated,  would 
probably  be  somewhat  rebuked,  if  they  knew  by  whose  advice 
and  with  whose  approbation,  I  resolved  on  staying  in  the  cabinet. 

"  Gentlemen,  I  could  not  but  be  sensible  that  great  respon- 
sibility attached  to  the  course  which  I  adopted.  A  most  unfor- 
tunate difference  had  broken  out  between  the  president  and 
the  whig  members  of  congress.  Much  exasperation  had  been 
produced,  and  the  whole  country  was  in  a  very  inflamed  state. 
No  man  of  sense  can  suppose  that,  without  strong  motives, 
I  should  wish  to  differ  in  conduct  from  those  with  whom  1  had 
long  acted ;  and  as  for  those  persons  whose  charity  leads 
them  to  seek  for  such  motive  in  the  hope  of  personal  advan- 
tage, neither  their  candor  nor  their  sagacity  deserves  anything 
but  contempt.  I  admit  gentlemen,  that,  if  a  very  strong  de- 
sire to  be  instrumental  and  useful  in  accomplishing  a  settle- 
ment of  our  difficulties  with  England,  which  had  then  risen  to 
an  alarming  height,  and  appeared  to  be  approaching  a  crisis — 
if  this  be  a  personal  motive,  then  I  confess  myself  to  have 
been  influenced  by  a  personal  motive.  The  imputation  of 
any  other  personal  motive,  the  charge  of  seeking  any  selfish 
advantage,  I  repel  with  utter  scorn." 

At  a  still  later  period,  however,  Mr.  Webster  was  com- 
pelled, not  to  defend  himself  for  having  stayed  where,  alone, 
he  could  be  instrumental  in  carrying  out  the  great  object  which 
had  caused  him  to  prefer  the  department  of  state  to  that  of  tho 
treasury,  where,  alone,  he  could  have  negotiated  the  treaty  of 


DEFENSE    OF    THE    TIIE.VTV.  3(>G 

Washington,  out  to  defend  the  treaty  itself  against  that  class  of 
persons,  before  alluded  to,  who  were  not  willing  that  any  one 
man  should  "  deserve  too  well  of  the  republic."  Several  dis- 
tinct charges  were  brought  against  the  treaty,  in  both  houses 
of  congress,  when  Mr.  Webster  was  not  there,  not  being  a 
member,  to  answer  them.  He  was  charged  with  having  alien- 
ated a  portion  of  our  territory  to  a  foreign  government ;  with 
having  proposed  or  accepted  a  line  of  boundary  unfavorable  in 
a  military  point  of  view,  to  the  United  States,  while  important 
advantages  were  secured  by  it  to  Great  Britain  ;  with  having 
failed  to  settle  the  great  and  annoying  question  of  the  right 
of  search,  as  set  up  by  Great  Britain  in  regard  to  vessels  sup- 
posed to  be  engaged  in  the  African  slave-trade ;  and  with  hav 
ing  demanded  of  England  no  redress  for  the  destruction  of  the 
steamboat  Caroline. 

It  was  not  until  four  years  after  the  ratification  of  the  treaty, 
in  the  spring  of  1846,  that  Mr.  Webster  had  the  opportunity 
of  answering  these  charges,  and  of  defending  his  reputation  as 
a  diplomatist.  During  the  winter  and  spring  of  that  year,  in 
the  discussion  of  the  Oregon  question,  when  Mr.  Webster  was 
again  in  the  senate,  the  treaty  was  once  more  assailed  in  both 
houses  of  congress  in  a  style  of  vituperation  not  at  all  credita- 
ble to  the  moderation  of  the  assailants.  Mr.  Dickinson,  one  of 
the  senators  from  New  York,  delivered  a  speech  on  the  bound 
ary  of  Oregon,  in  which  he  quoted  largely  and  approvingly 
from  a  speech  made  previously  by  Mr.  C.  J.  Ingersoll,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  lower  house  from  Pennsylvania,  who  had  industri- 
ously gathered  up  objections  to  the  treaty,  and  who  had  partic- 
ularly given  currency  to  certain  offensive  and  injurious  rumors 
.n  relation  to  the  affair  of  the  Caroline.  This  speech  of  Mr. 
Dickinson  had  at  least  the  merit  of  calling  Mr.  Webster  out  to 
make  one  of  the  ablest  and  most  triumphant  defences  ever  ut- 
tered since  the  delivery  of  the  oration  for  the  crown.  It  must 
ever  be  regarded,  in  the  sober  judgment  of  history,  as  a  perfect 


370  WEIiSTER    AND    HIS    M  ASTER-PI  Kl'KS. 

vindication  of  the  treaty  and  of  the  man  who  acted  the  *irsl 
part  in  its  negotiation.  Nor  can  it  he  doubted,  that  the  per 
petrators  of  the  assault  would  have  chosen,  after  all  was  over 
never  to  have  made  it,  unless  the  notoriety  of  having  held 
combat  with  a  man,  who,  in  general,  was  prudently  let  alone, 
was  a  sufficient  satisfaction  in  a  contest  from  which  no  living 
person  could  reasonably  have  expected  fame.  Besides  giving  a 
most  conclusive  answer  to  every  charge  brought  against  the  treaty, 
and  against  himself,  Mr.  Webster  turned  upon  his  assailants, 
and  upon  the  party  whose  champions  they  were,  and  proved, 
to  a  demonstration,  that,  if  he  had  not  accomplished  all  that 
could  have  been  desired,  they  and  their  party,  though  admin- 
istering the  government  more  than  two-thirds  of  the  time  since 
its  origin,  had  done  literally  nothing.  Indeed,  he  showed  that 
the  two  last  democratic  administrations  had  left  our  difficulties 
with  Great  Britain  in  a  worse  condition  than  they  found  them  ; 
and,  at  the  conclusion  of  his  speech,  which  ran  through  the  6th 
and  7th  of  April,  he  submits  his  whole  case  to  the  decision  of 
mankind  in  a  strain  of  dignified  but  humble  confidence,  which 
always  characterized  him  on  such  occasions  :  "  Mr.  President, 
I  have  reached  the  end  of  these  remarks,  and  the  completion 
of  my  purpose ;  and  I  am  now  ready,  sir,  to  put  the  question 
to  the  senate,  and  to  the  country,  whether  the  north-eastern 
boundary  has  not  been  fairly  and  satisfactorily  settled  ;  whether 
proper  satisfaction  and  apology  have  not  been  obtained  for  an 
aggression  on  the  soil  and  territory  of  the  United  States ; 
whether  proper  and  safe  stipulations  have  not  been  entered  into 
for  the  fulfillment  of  the  duty  of  government,  and  for  meeting 
the  earnest  desire  of  the  people,  in  the  suppression  of  the  slave- 
trade  ;  whether  in  pursuance  of  these  stipulations,  a  degree  of 
success  in  the  attainment  of  that  object  has  not  been  reached, 
wholly  unknown  before ;  whether  crimes  disturbing  the  peace 
of  nations  have  not  been  suppressed  ;  whether  the  safety  of 
the  southern  coasting  trade  has  not  been  secured  ;  whether  im 


APPEAL    TO    PUBLIC    OPINION.  371 

pressment  has  not  been  struck  out  from  the  list  of  contested 
questions  among  nations;  and  finally,  and  more  than  all. 
whether  anything  has  been  done  to  tarnish  the  luster  of  the 
American  name  and  character  ? 

"  Mr.  President,  my  best  services,  like  those  of  every  other 
good  citizen,  are  due  to  my  country  ;  and  I  submit  them,  and 
their  results,  in  all  humility,  to  her  judgment.  But  standing 
here,  to-day,  in  the  senate  of  the  United  States,  and  speaking 
in  behalf  of  the  administration  of  which  I  formed  a  part,  and 
hi  behalf  of  the  two  houses  of  congress,  who  sustained  that  ad- 
ministration, cordially  and  effectually,  in  everything  relating  to 
this  day's  discussion,  I  am  willing  to  appeal  to  the  public  men 
of  the  age,  whether,  in  1842,  and  in  the  city  of  Washington, 
something  was  not  done  for  the  suppression  of  crime,  for  the 
true  exposition  of  the  principles  of  public  law,  for  the  freedom 
and  security  of  commerce  on  the  ocean,  and  for  the  peace  of 
the  world  ?" 

To  this  appeal,  the  public  men  of  the  age,  on  both  sides  of 
the  Atlantic,  have  given  almost  a  unanimous  response.  They 
have  responded,  that  the  illustrious  secretary  was  entirely  jus- 
tified in  remaining  in  the  cabinent  of  Mr.  Tyler,  so  long  as  that 
gentleman  continued  to  aid  him  in  achieving  the  great  work  for 
which,  and  for  which  alone,  he  had  accepted  the  high  post  at 
the  hands  of  General  Harrison.  They  have  responded,  that 
the  treaty  of  Washington,  professedly  a  treaty  of  mutual  con- 
cession, is  upon  the  whole  the  wisest  possible  settlement  of  the 
long-standing  and  vexed  difficulties  between  two  great  nations 
jealous  of  each  other's  power,  and  stubborn  in  the  mainte- 
nance of  their  own  rights.  They  have  responded,  that  the  man 
who  negotiated  that  treaty,  in  the  midst  of  obstacles  which 
would  have  disheartened,  and  did  dishearten  and  defeat,  the 
ablest  and  most  determined  of  our  statesmen,  performed  a 
work  for  his  country,  and  for  his  age,  which  no  other  American, 
then  living,  could  have  performed,  or  performed  so  well.  They 
VOL.  i.  P*  24 


372  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

have  responded,  in  spite  of  the  vigorous  ana  repeated  buc  in 
significant  attacks  made  upon  it,  by  mere  partisan  politicians, 
that  the  treaty  stands  far  above  party,  as  it  is  far  above  assault. 
a,  monument  of  American  diplomacy,  worthy  to  be  made,  as  it 
has  been  made,  a  model  for  the  oldest  and  most  experienced 
nations.  They  have  responded,  in  a  word,  that  the  American 
who  negotiated  that  instrument,  had  this  been  his  only  work, 
would  have  stood,  in  the  judgment  of  all  enlightened  men,  by 
the  side  of  the  most  distinguished  and  successful  diplomatists 
of  ancient  and  of  modern  times ;  and  it  is  probably  not  too 
much  to  say,  that  the  treaty  of  Washington  will  hereafter,  for 
generations  yet  to  come,  be  looked  back  to  as  the  ablest  treaty 
ever  made,  in  time  of  peace,  between  the  United  States  and  any 
other  country,  and  as  a  particular  star  in  that  coronet  of  fame 
which  is  ever  to  circle  the  name  of  Daniel  Webster.  Immedi 
ately  after  its  completion,  at  all  events,  it  cannot  be  denied, 
that  that  coronet  shone  brighter  than  at  any  previous  period  of 
his  history.  The  first  public  address  that  he  made,  after  reti- 
ring from  Mr.  Tyler's  cabinet — and  he  retired  as  soon  as  he 
could  after  the  treaty  was  secured — was  quoted  in  England,  in 
France,  and  in  nearly  every  part  of  Europe,  as  the  most  relia- 
ble statement  of  the  condition  and  prospects  of  this  country,  in 
a  financial  point  of  view,  to  be  met  with  ;  and  these  quotations, 
which  embodied  but  the  opinion  of  a  single  individual,  of  only 
one  citizen  of  this  country,  who  now  held  no  office,  who  had 
no  longer  a  control  over  public  affiairs,  who  never  had  had  the 
charge  of  his  country's  finances,  materially  affected  the  value 
of  American  securities  in  London,  in  Paris,  and  in  every  great 
commercial  city  of  the  continent.  At  this  time  of  his  life,  in- 
deed, not  only  was  his  word  more  powerful  at  home  than  thai 
of  any  other  American,  whether  in  office  or  out  of  office,  but  it 
had  gone  out  to  other  countries,  and  become  the  basis  of  the 
heaviest  pecuniary  transactions  among  nations,  and  in  regions, 
where  the  names  of  some  of  the  presidents  of  the  republic  had 


ANSWER  TO  THE  APPEAL.  373 

not  yet  been  made  familiar.  So  true  it  is,  that  genius  is  loftiei 
than  place,  that  talents  are  mightier  than  position ;  for  at  the  pe- 
riod now  under  view,  the  highest  place,  without  doubt,  for  powei 
and  influence  held  by  any  person  in  this  country,  when  all  the 
great  interests  of  mankind  are  considered,  was  that  occupied. 
wherever  or  whatever  he  might  be,  in  public  or  in  private  life, 
by  Daniel  Webster. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AGAIN  SENATOR  FROM  MASSACHUSETTS. 

THE  two  years  which  succeeded  his  retirement  from  j.e  cab- 
inet of  Mr.  Tyler,  Mr.  Webster  spent  in  the  peaceful  enjoy- 
ments of  private  life ;  and  they  must  have  been  the  happiest 
two  years  he  had  seen  since  the  halcyon  days  of  his  childhood. 
Revered  as  a  sage  in  his  own  country,  and  possessed  of  a  fame  that 
had  gone  into  every  great  nation  of  the  globe,  he  was  free  from 
the  cares  and  turmoil  of  office,  and  could  walk  over  his  lands 
at  Marshfield,  thinking  his  own  great  thoughts  with  a  freshness 
and  freedom  which  he  had  scarcely  ever  known  before.  Re- 
turning from  his  rambles  on  the  farm,  he  could  go  into  his 
magnificent  library,  which  was  stored  with  the  standard  works 
of  the  most  enlightened  ages  and  countries,  and  lose  himself  in 
other  rambles,  or  engage  in  those  more  fixed  investigations,  which 
constitute  the  most  agreeable  recreation  and  employment  of  the 
mind.  To  diversify  these  pursuits,  he  could  go,  as  he  did  often 
go,  to  the  boat-house  where  he  kept  his  skiffs,  and  wind  his 
way  along  the  crooked  tide-channels,  that  intersect  his  posses- 
sions, to  the  beach  of  the  great  ocean,  where  he  could  enjoy 
hours  of  absolute  solitude,  alone  with  nature,  and  give  loose 
rein  to  his  memory,  his  reason,  and  his  fancy.  As  expert  at 
fishing  as  any  of  the  disciples  of  the  great  angler,  and  capable 
of  teaching  where  Sir  Izaak  himself  was  not  informed,  with 
Captain  Hewitt  for  helmsman,  he  would  be  out  upon  the 
streams  before  the  sun  had  risen,  and  devote  all  the  cool  hours 
of  morning  to  this  amusement ;  and  in  these  ways,  as  a  needed 
and  long-desired  relaxation  from  the  corroding  anxieties  of  pub- 


TWO  YEARS'  VACATION.  375 

lie  station,  many  of  the  bright  days  of  the  two  years  of  the  sec- 
ond vacation  of  his  life  were  made  still  brighter,  till  he  was 
again  called  to  the  senate  of  the  United  States  by  a  common- 
wealth, which,  while  he  lived,  could  not  long  suffer  itself  to  be 
otherwise  represented. 

The  two  years,  however,  were  not  entirely  devoted  to  recre- 
ation. As  needy  of  rest  as  Mr.  Webster  knew  himself  to  be, 
he  could  not  satisfy  himself  to  remain  a  silent  spectator,  when 
he  saw  a  movement  in  inception,  which  he  looked  upon  as  dan- 
gerous to  the  peace,  if  not  to  the  liberties,  of  the  country.  It 
was  during  the  two  years  of  his  retirement  that  the  project  was 
revived  of  annexing  Texas  to  the  Union.  Texas,  having  as- 
serted and  maintained  her  independence  of  Mexico  by  a  brief 
but  bloody  revolution,  had  offered  herself  to  the  United  States 
during  the  kindred  administrations  of  Jackson  and  of  Van  Bu 
ren ;  and  both  of  these  presidents  had  rejected  the  overture  on 
the  ground,  that,  if  accepted,  it  would  involve  us  in  a  war  with 
Mexico.  Mr.  Tyler,  however,  eager  in  some  way  to  win  back 
some  portion  of  the  country  that  had  deserted  him,  thought  he 
could  secure  the  south  by  accepting  what  had  been  twice  re- 
jected. But  there  was  not  southern  strength  enough  in  con- 
gress, during  his  day,  to  carry  the  proposed  measure,  and  it 
therefore  remained  till  the  expiration  of  Mr.  Tyler's  term,  to 
be  made  one  of  the  two  great  issues  of  the  succeeding  presi- 
dential canvass.  Mr.  Webster,  foreseeing  that  this  would  be 
the  case,  exerted  himself,  while  at  home  at  Murshfield,  to  rouse 
the  country  against  the  measure ;  and  his  correspondence  and 
conversation  were  the  means  of  first  waking  the  attention  of 
the  public  to  this  new  mode  of  extending  the  area  of  slavery. 
He  met  with  no  great  success,  however,  in  warning  his  fellow- 
citizens  against  the  insidious  undertaking.  His  most  confiden- 
tial friends,  his  wannest  admirers,  could  hardly  believe  that 
there  was  any  real  danger.  His  opponents  accused  him,  rather 
plainly,  of  playing  the  demagogue,  as  he  was  now  out  of  office. 


WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 


01  ok  .Mittuty  becoming  an  alarmist.  He  lived  to  remind 
both  ms  friends  and  his  enemies  of  his  exertions  on  this  sub- 
ject, and  of  their  own  apathy  and  uncharitableness  :  "  For  a 
few  years,"  says  he,  in  his  remarks  on  the  Mexican  war,  de- 
livered on  the  23d  of  March,  1848,  "I  held  a  position  in  the 
executive  administration  of  the  government.  I  left  the  depart- 
ment of  state  in  1843,  in  the  month  of  May.  Within  a  month 
after  another  (an  intelligent  gentleman,  for  whom  I  cherished 
a  high  respect,  and  who  came  to  a  sad  and  untimely  end)  had 
taken  my  place,  I  had  occasion  to  know,  not  officially,  but  from 
circumstances,  that  the  annexation  of  Texas  .was  taken  up  by 
Mr.  Tyler's  administration  as  an  administration  measure.  It 
was  pushed,  pressed,  insisted  on  ;  and  I  believe  the  honorable 
gentleman  to  whom  I  have  referred  had  something  like  a  pas- 
sion for  the  accomplishment  of  this  purpose.  And  I  am  afraid 
that  the  president  of  the  United  States  at  that  time  suffered  his 
ardent  feelings  not  a  little  to  control  his  more  prudent  judg- 
ment. At  any  rate,  I  saw,  in  1843,  that  annexation  had  be- 
come a  purpose  of  the  administration.  I  was  not  in  congress 
nor  in  public  life.  But,  seeing  this  state  of  things,  I  thought  it 
my  duty  to  admonish  the  country,  so  far  as  I  could,  of  the  ex- 
istence of  that  purpose.  There  are  gentlemen  at  the  north, 
many  of  them,  there  are  gentlemen  now  in  the  capitol,  who 
know,  that  in  the  summer  of  1843,  being  fully  persuaded  that 
this  purpose  was  embraced  with  zeal  and  determination  by  the 
executive  department  of  the  government  of  the  United  States, 
I  thought  it  my  duty,  and  asked  them  to  concur  with  me  in 
the  attempt,  to  make  that  purpose  known  to  the  country.  I 
conferred  with  gentlemen  of  distinction  and  influence.  I  pro- 
poned means  for  exciting  public  attention  to  the  question  of  an- 
nexation, before  it  should  bave  become  a  party  question  ;  for  1 
had  learned  that,  when  any  topic  becomes  a  party  question,  5i 
is  in  vain  to  argue  upon  it. 


ELECTION    OF    MR.  POLK.  37" 

"  But  the  optimists,  and  the  quietists,  and  those  who  said 
Ail  things  are  well,  and  let  all  things  alone,  discouraged,  di* 
countenanced,  and  repressed  any  such  effort.  The  north,  they 
said,  could  take  care  of  itself;  the  country  could  take  care  of 
itself,  and  would  not  sustain  Mr.  Tyler  in  his  project  of  annex- 
ation. When  the  time  should  come,  they  said,  the  power  of 
the  north  would  be  felt,  and  would  be  found  sufficient  to  resist 
and  prevent  the  consummation  of  the  measure.  And  I  could 
now  refer  to  paragraphs  and  articles  in  the  most  respectable 
and  leading  journals  of  the  north,  in  which  it  was  attempted  to 
produce  the  impression  that  there  was  no  danger;  there  could 
be  no  addition  of  new  states,  and  men  need  not  alarm  them- 
selves about  that." 

Mr.  Van  Buren,  who  had  been  regarded  as  a  martyr  by  his 
party,  and  who  had  been  generally  looked  to  as  the  democratic 
candidate  for  the  presidency,  if  not  hostile,  was  cautious  in  re- 
gard to  the  project  of  annexation  ;  and  his  caution,  hitherto  ap- 
plauded as  his  leading  characteristic  as  a  statesman,  had  ceased 
to  be  admired  by  southern  politicians.  They  wanted  a  man 
sure  to  sustain  the  doctrine  of  the  annexation  of  more  slave  ter- 
ritory to  the  republic;  consequently,  at  the  national  democratic 
convention  of  1844,  Mr.  Van  Buren  was  rejected  ;  and  the  con- 
vention selected  Mr.  Polk  as  its  candidate,  a  gentleman  of  great 
private  worth  and  some  abilities  as  a  public  man,  but  nearly 
unknown  to  the  citizens  of  the  country.  The  whigs  set  up  Mr. 
Clay  for  the  same  high  office ;  and  the  canvass  was  carried 
through  with  unusual  spirit  by  both  parties.  Mr.  Clay  was  in 
favor  of  a  United  States  bank,  but  opposed  to  annexation.  Mr. 
Polk  was  a  friend  to  annexation,  but  opposed  to  a  general  bank. 
Mr.  Clay  depended  on  the  anti-slavery  vote  of  the  north ;  but 
in  this  he  met  with  utter  and  a  disastrous  disappointment. 
That  vote,  by  being  thrown  away  on  a  separate  candidate,  se- 
cured the  election  of  Mr.  Polk,  secured  the  annexation  »f  Texas, 
with  her  debts  and  slaves,  and  led  directly  forward  to  the  wai 


378  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

with  Mexico,  to  the  acquisition  of  new  and  vast  regions  of  te» 
ritory,  to  the  difficulties  attending  the  organization  of  those  tor 
ritories,  even  to  the  fugitive  slave  bill,  which  they  afterwards 
so  unanimously  denounced.  Mr.  Webster,  with  his  usual  sa- 
gacity, foresaw  all  these  consequences,  and  warned  the  country, 
and  the  anti-slavery  part  of  it  in  particular,  to  avoid  them;  and 
had  the  latter  heeded  the  warnings  of  the  great  statesman,  and 
voted  with  him  for  Henry  Clay  against  annnexation,  Mr.  Clay 
would  have  been  elected,  Texas  would  have  been  kept  out  of 
the  Union,  the  war  with  Mexico  would  not  have  happened,  the 
south-western  territories  would  not  have  been  acquired,  no  com- 
promise of  1850  would  have  been  demanded,  and  no  new  fugi- 
tive slave  law,  as  a  part  of  that  compromise,  would  have  been 
asked  for  or  granted. 

Mr.  Polk  and  the  extension  of  slavery  were  in  this  way  sanc- 
tioned by  a  constitutional  majority,  though  a  minority  in  fact, 
of  the  American  people ;  and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  first 
thing  undertaken,  and  the  first  thing  effected,  was  the  annexa- 
tion of  the  new  republic.  Failing  to  find  votes  enough  in  con- 
gress to  carry  annexation  according  to  the  constitution,  or  ac- 
cording to  usage  under  the  constitution,  it  was  secured  by  a 
simple  joint  resolution  of  the  two  houses,  a  mode  not  contem- 
plated by  that  instrument,  if  not  in  opposition  to  it.  Mr.  Web- 
ster, now  once  more  a  member  of  the  senate,  having  been  ap- 
pointed to  succeed  Mr.  Choate,  who  had  been  himself  appointed 
to  supply  the  vacancy  made  by  Mr.  Webster's  accepting  office 
under  General  Harrison,  raised  his  voice,  and  ihe  voice  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, against  the  measure.  He  opposed  it  on  the  ground, 
that  too  great  an  expansion  of  our  national  territory,  for  what- 
ever reason  or  by  whatever  means  effected,  would  be  danger- 
ous to  the  perpetuity  of  the  government ;  that  he  wished  to 
have  the  United  States  stand  as  an  example  of  a  country  grow- 
ing greater,  not  by  aggressions  on  the  peaceful  territories  of 
uur  neighbors,  but  by  the  development  of  it*  own  resources. 


ANNEXATION    OF    TEXAS.  379 

and  bj  the  establishment,  as  national  characteristics,  of  inoder 
atiou  and  justice ;  and  that,  by  the  admission  of  Texas,  we 
snould  be  adding  to  the  already  existing  inequality  between  the 
states  north  and  south,  arising  from  the  existence  of  slavery  and 
an  unequal  mode  of  popular  representation  founded  on  it :  "In 
the  next  place,  sir,"  said  the  senator,  in  giving  a  formal  state- 
ment of  this  reason  for  his  opposition,  "  I  have  to  say,  that 
while  I  hold,  with  as  much  integrity,  I  trust,  and  faithfulness,  as 
any  citizen  of  this  country,  to  all  the  original  arrangements  and 
compromises  under  which  the  constitution  under  which  we  now 
live  was  adopted,  I  never  could,  and  never  can,  persuade  my- 
self to  be  in  favor  of  the  admission  of  other  states  into  the 
Union  as  slave  states,  with  the  inequalities  which  were  allowed 
and  accorded  by  the  constitution  to  the  slave-holding  states  then 
in  existence.  I  do  not  think  that  the  free  states  ever  expected, 
or  could  expect,  that  they  would  be  called  on  to  admit  more  slave 
states,  having  the  unequal  advantages  arising  to  them  from  the 
mode  of  apportioning  representation  under  the  existing  con- 
stitution. 

"Sir,  I  have  never  made  an  effort,  and  never  propose  to 
make  an  effort ;  I  have  never  countenanced  an  effort,  and  never 
mean  to  countenance  an  effort,  to  disturb  the  arrangements,  as 
originally  made,  by  which  the  various  states  came  into  the 
Union.  But  I  cannot  avoid  considering  it  quite  a  different  ques- 
tion, when  a  proposition  is  made  to  admit  new  states,  and  that 
they  be  allowed  to  come  in  with  the  same  advantages  and  ine- 
qualities which  were  agreed  to  in  regard  to  the  old.  It  may 
be  said,  that,  according  to  the  provisions  of  the  constitution, 
new  states  are  to  be  admitted  upon  the  same  footing  as  the  old 
states.  It  may  be  so  ;  but  it  does  not  follow  at  all  from  that 
provision,  that  every  territory  or  portion  of  country  may  at 
pleasure  establish  slavery,  and  then  say  we  will  become  a  por- 
tion of  the  Union,  and  will  bring  with  us  the  principles  which 
\ve  have  thus  adopted,  and  must  be  received  on  the  same  foot- 


380  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PJECEB. 

ing  as  the  old  states.  It  will  always  be  a  question  whether  the 
other  states  have  not  a  right  (and  I  think  they  have  the  clearest 
right)  to  require  that  the  state  coming  into  the  Union  should 
come  in  upon  an  equality  ;  and  if  the  existence  of  slavery  be 
an  impediment  to  coming  in  on  an  equality,  then  the  state  pro- 
posing to  come  in  should  be  required  to  remove  that  inequality 
by  abolishing  slavery,  or  take  the  alternative  of 'being  excluded. 

"  Now,  I  suppose  that  I  should  be  very  safe  in  saying,  that 
if  a  proposition  were  made  to  introduce  from  the  north  or  the 
north-west  territories  into  this  Union,  under  circumstances 
which  would  give  them  an  equivalent  to  that  enjoyed  by  slave 
states, — advantage  and  inequality,  that  is  to  say,  over  the  south, 
such  as  this  admission  gives  to  the  south  over  the  north, — I 
take  it  for  granted  that  there  is  not  a  gentleman  in  this  body 
from  a  slave-holding  state  that  would  listen  for  one  moment  to 
such  a  proposition.  I  therefore  put  my  opposition,  as  well  as 
on  other  grounds,  on  the  political  ground  that  it  deranges  the 
balance  of  the  constitution,  and  creates  inequality  and  unjust  ad- 
vantage against  the  north,  and  in  favor  of  the  slave-holding  coun- 
try of  the  south.  I  repeat,  that  if  a  proposition  were  now  made 
for  annexations  from  the  north,  and  that  proposition  contained 
such  a  preference,  auch  a  manifest  inequality,  as  that  now  before 
us,  no  one  could  hope  that  any  gentleman  from  the  southern 
states  would  hearken  to  it  for  a  moment. 

"  It  is  not  a  subject  that  I  mean  to  discuss  at  length.  I  am 
quite  aware  that  there  are  in  this  chamber  gentlemen  represent- 
ing free  states,  gentlemen  from  the  north  and  east,  who  have  man- 
ifested a  disposition  to  add  Texas  to  the  Union  as  a  slave^state, 
with  the  common  inequality  belonging  to  slave  states.  This  is 
a  matter  for  their  own  discretion,  and  judgment,  and  responsi- 
bility. They  are  in  no  way  responsible  to  me  for  the  ex- 
ercise of  the  duties  assigned  them  here ;  but  I  must  say  that 
I  cannot  but  think  that  the  time  will  come  when  they  will  very 
much  doubt  both  the  propriety  and  justice  of  the  present  pro 


OPPOSES    ANNEXATION.  381 

ceeding.  I  cannot  but  think  the  time  will  come  when  all  wiLJ 
be  convinced  that  there  is  no  reason,  political  or  moral,  foi 
increasing  the  number  of  the  states,  and  increasing,  at  the  same 
time,  the  obvious  inequality  which  exists  in  the  representation 
of  the  people  in  congress  by  extending  slavery  and  slave  rep- 
resentation. 

"  On  looking  at  the  proposition  further,  I  find  that  it  imposes 
restraints  upon  the  legislature  of  the  state  as  to  the  manner  in 
which  it  shall  proceed  (in  case  of  a  desire  to  proceed  at  all)  in 
order  to  the  abolition  of  slavery.  I  have  perused  that  part  of 
the  constitution  of  Texas,  and,  if  I  understand  it,  the  legislature 
is  restrained  from  abolishing  slavery  at  any  time,  except  on 
two  conditions  ;  one,  the  consent  of  every  master,  and  the 
other,  the  payment  of  compensation.  Now  I  think  that  a  con- 
stitution thus  formed  ties  up  the  hands  of  the  legislature  effect- 
ually against  any  movement,  under  any  state  of  circumstances, 
with  a  view  to  abolish  slavery  ;  because,  if  anything  is  to  be 
done,  it  must  be  done  within  the  state  by  general  law,  and 
such  a  thing  as  the  consent  of  every  master  cannot  be  obtained ; 
though  I  do  not  say  that  there  may  not  be  an  inherent  power 
in  the  people  of  Texas  to  alter  the  constitution,  if  they  should 
be  inclined  to  relieve  themselves  hereafter  from  the  restraint 
under  which  they  labor.  But  I  speak  of  the  constitution  now 
presented  to  us. 

"  Mr.  President,  I  was  not  in  congress  at  the  last  session,  and 
of  course  had  no  opportunity  to  take  part  in  the  debates  upon 
this  question  ;  nor  have  I  before  been  called  upon  to  discharge 
a  public  trust  in  regard  to  it.  I  certainly  did,  as  a  private  cit- 
izen, entertain  a  strong  feeling  that,  if  Texas  were  to  be  brought 
into  the  Union  at  all,  she  ought  to  be  brought  in  by  diplomatic 
arrangement,  sanctioned  by  treaty.  But  it  has  been  decided 
otherwise  by  both  houses  of  congress ;  and,  whatever  my  own 
opinions  may  be,  I  know  that  many  who  coincided  with  me 
feel  themselves,  nevertheless,  bound  by  the  decision  of  all 


382  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

branches  of  the  government.  My  own  opinion  and  judgment 
have  not  been  at  all  shaken  by  anything  I  have  heard.  And 
now,  not  having  been  a  member  of  the  government,  and  having, 
of  course,  taken  no  official  part  in  the  measure,  and  as  it  has 
now  come  to  be  completed,  I  have  believed  that  I  should  best 
discharge  my  own  duty,  and  fulfill  the  expectations  of  those 
who  placed  me  here,  by  giving  this  expression  of  their  most 
decided,  unequivocal,  and  unanimous  dissent  and  protest ;  and 
stating,  as  I  have  now  stated,  the  reasons  which  have  impelled 
me  to  withhold  my  vote. 

"  I  agree  with  the  unanimous  opinion  of  the  legislature  of 
Massachusetts ;  I  agree  with  the  great  mass  of  her  people  ;  I 
reaffirm  what  I  have  said  and  written  during  the  last  eight 
years,  at  various  times,  against  this  annexation.  I  here  record 
my  own  dissent  and  opposition  ;  and  I  here  express  and  place 
on  record,  also,  the  dissent  and  protest  of  the  state  of  Massa- 
chusetts." 

The  joint  resolution,  however,  which  had  been  originally  re- 
ported to  the  house  by  Mr.  Douglas,  representative  from  the 
state  of  Illinois,  passed ;  and  the  very  next  event  in  the  history 
of  the  country,  as  had  been  foreseen  and  foretold  by  Mr.  Web- 
ster, was  a  war  with  Mexico.  Having  labored  to  bring  the  re- 
public of  Texas  into  the  confederacy,  as  well  as  for  official  rea- 
sons, Mr.  Polk  felt  bound  to  defend  the  new  state  against  the 
Mexican  forces,  which  were  hovering  along  its  south-western 
border.  General  Taylor,  with  a  small  army,  was  at  once  sent 
to  Texas  for  this  purpose.  He  was  ordered  to  take  up  his  po- 
sition between  the  Rio  del  Norte  and  the  Neuces.  Here,  in 
spite  of  his  uncommon  abilities  as  a  commander,  he  was  soon 
threatened  with  destruction  ;  and  the  president  was  compelled, 
in  all  haste,  to  send  on  reinforcements.  This,  therefore,  with- 
out any  declaration  by  congress,  and  in  a  manner  rendering  it 
impossible  for  congress  to  interfere,  was  the  origin  of  the  war. 

The  war  having  been  begun,  and  the  lives  of  American  soj 


THE    OREGON    DISPUTE.  383 

diers  and  American  citizens  being  in  great  hazard,  Mi.  Web 
ster  could  not  do  otherwise  than  vote  for  all  the  supplies  de- 
manded to  carry  the  war  on,  till  peace  could  be  honorably 
concluded.  The  same  principle  by  which  he  had  been  actua- 
ted in  1812  again  controlled  his  course  in  1845;  and  he  car- 
ried his  patriotism,  or  moderation,  to  such  a  pitch,  that  he  per- 
mitted  his  son  Edward,  a  very  promising  young  man,  to  enter 
the  army  as  a  volunteer,  and  sacrifice  his  life  before  the  walls 
of  Mexico.  Mr.  Webster  never  failed  to  submit  with  grace, 
and,  if  possible,  to  use  with  advantage,  what  he  could  not 
prevent 

While  the  war  with  Mexico  was  in  progress,  the  president 
raised  another  question,  which,  almost  at  once,  threatened  to 
excite  hostilities  between  us  and  England.  Mr.  Polk,  whose 
supporters  in  the  canvass  had  claimed  the  whole  of  Oregon, 
and  made  54  degrees  40  minutes  a  watchword  of  the  party, 
and  a  by-word  with  the  people,  in  his  inaugural  address,  and 
afterwards  in  his  first  and  second  annual  messages  to  congress, 
had  stated  that  our  right  to  the  whole  of  Oregon  "  was  clear 
and  unquestionable."  This  opinion,  of  course,  was  given  in  his 
official  character  as  president  of  the  United  States ;  and  ac- 
cordingly, in  the  first  of  the  above  messages,  he  recommended 
that  the  United  States  should  give  notice  to  Great  Britain  of 
their  intention  "  to  terminate  the  convention  between  the  two 
countries,"  concluded  in  1827,  for  the  joint  occupation  of  the  ter- 
ritory. A  joint  resolution  was,  therefore,  introduced  into  the 
senate  by  Mr.  Allen,  of  Ohio,  and  referred  to  the  committee 
on  foreign  relations,  who  reported  it  back  with  amendments; 
and  while  the  second  time  before  the  senate,  it  received  several 
additional  amendments  and  alterations.  Fearing  that  an  un- 
qualified notice  of  separation  would  needlessly  alarm  the  pub- 
lic, and  embarrass  the  settlement  of  the  question,  Mr.  Critten 
den,  of  Kentucky,  moved  a  new  amendment,  the  purport  of 
which  was,  that,  in  order  to  afford  ample  time  for  the  amicable 


?84  WEtfbTER    AND    HIS    MASTEK-Plhit  ES. 

adjustment  of  the  question,  said  notice  ought  not  to  be  given 
till  after  the  termination  of  the  current  session  of  congress. 
On  this  amendment,  Mr.  Webster  addressed  the  senate,  and 
this  speech,  delivered  on  the  24th  of  February,  1846,  was  one 
of  the  very  few  which  he  was  ever  known  to  read  in  congress. 
He  took  the  position,  in  opposition  to  the  extreme  language  of 
the  president,  that  if  the  Oregon  dispute  was  ever  settled,  it 
would  be  settled  on  the  forty -ninth  degree  of  latitude.  This 
idea  was  immediately  scouted  by  the  leading  friends  of  the  ad- 
ministration, in  both  houses  ;  but  the  result  justified  the  predic- 
tion, and  illustrated  the  sagacity  of  Mr.  Webster.  The  forty- 
ninth  parallel  was  accepted  by  that  very  president,  who  had 
asserted  our  right  to  the  whole  of  Oregon,  in  such  emphatic 
terms,  "  as  clear  and  unquestionable  ;  "  and  after  all  was  over, 
and  over  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  country,  Mr.  Webster  could1 
not  fail  to  draw  some  amusement  from  the  fact,  that  the  very 
persons  and  the  party  who,  in  1842  and  afterwards,  had  threat- 
ened him  with  a  political  crucifixion  for  having  alienated  a  worth- 
less strip  of  •"  disputed  territory,"  which  he  and  they  had  always 
looked  upon  not  only  as  disputed,  but  as  doubtful,  should  now 
surrender  to  the  same  government  a  section  of  country,  to 
which  our  title  was  asserted  by  them  as  incontestable,  which, 
in  width,  would  cover  the  space  lying  between  Lake  Erie  and 
North  Carolina,  and  in  length  would  extend  nea:ly  or  quite  all 
the  way  from  Massachusetts  to  the  Mississippi ! 

However  inconsistenf  for  Mr.  Polk  to  settle  the  Oregon  con- 
troversy in  this  way,  in  the  face  of  his  extreme  and  uncompro- 
mising assertions,  the  same  settlement  would  have  been  proper 
enough  for  Mr.  Webster,  who  had  never  taken  the  untenable 
position.  The  truth  is,  indeed,  this  is  the  very  settlement  which 
he  was  prepared  to  offer  to  Lord  Ashburton,  and  which,  had 
the  nable  diplomatist  been  instructed  by  his  government  upon 
this  subject,  would  undoubtedly  have  constituted  a  portion  of 
the  treaty  of  Washington.  In  the  absence  of  such  instructions 


SERVICES    OF    MR.    WEBSTER.  385 

nothing  could  be  accomplished,  and  nothing  was  accomplished, 
at  that  time,  by  Mr.  Webster,  in  the  arrangement  of  this 
question  ;  but  the  merit  of  the  settlement,  nevertheless,  when 
the  settlement  was  in  fact  made,  belonged,  after  all,  not  to  Mr. 
Polk,  nor  to  his  cabinet,  but  to  Mr.  Webster,  who,  doubtless, 
would  never  have  taken  the  pains  to  bring  out  the  evidence  of 
his  services,  in  this  particular,  to  the  peace  of  nations  and  the 
best  good  of  the  human  family.  The  evidence,  however,  came 
forth  in  an  accidental  manner.  The  London  Examiner,  in  an 
article  touching  the  relations  of  Great  Britain  and  the  United 
States,  furnished  the  proof  that  it  was  Mr.  Webster,  and  not 
the  current  administration,  that  was  chiefly  instrumental  in 
bringing  this  vexed  controversy  to  a  peaceful  and  happy  ter- 
mination :  "  In  reply  to  a  question  put  to  him  in  reference  to 
the  present  war  establishments  of  this  country,  and  the  pro- 
priety of  applying  the  principle  of  arbitration  in  the  settlement 
of  disputes  arising  among  nations,  Mr.  McGregor,  one  of  the 
candidates  for  the  representation  of  Glasgow,  took  occasion  to 
narrate  the  following  very  important  and  remarkable  anecdote, 
in  connection  with  our  recent,  but  now  happily  terminated  dif- 
ferences with  the  United  States  on  the  Oregon  question.  At 
the  time  our  embassador  at  Washington,  the  Hon.  Mr.  Paken- 
ham,  refused  to  negotiate  on  the  forty-ninth  parallel  of  north 
latitude  as  the  basis  of  a  treaty,  and  when,  by  that  refusal,  the 
danger  of  a  rupture  between  Great  Britain  and  America  be- 
came really  imminent,  Mr.  Daniel  Webster,  formerly  secretary 
of  state  to  the  American  government,  wrote  a  letter  to  Mr. 
McGregor,  in  which  he  strongly  deprecated  Mr.  Pakenham's 
conduct,  which,  if  persisted  in,  and  adopted  at  home,  would,  tc 
a  certainty,  embroil  the  two  countries,  and  suggested  an  equi- 
table compromise,  taking  the  forty-ninth  parallel  as  the  basis  of 
an  adjustment.  Mr.  McGregor  agreeing  entirely  with  Mr. 
Webster  in  the  propriety  of  a  mutual  giving  and  taking  tc 
avoid  a  rupture,  and  the  more  especially  as  the  whole  territory 


386  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

in  dispute  was  not  worth  £20,000  to  either  power,  while  the 
preparations  alone  for  a  war  would  cost  a  great  deal  more  be- 
fore the  parties  could  come  into  actual  conflict,  communicated 
the  contents  of  Mr.  Webster's  letter  to  Lord  John  Russell, 
who  at  the  time  was  living  in  the  neighborhood  of  Edinburgh, 
and,  in  reply,  received  a  letter  from  Lord  John,  in  which  he 
stated  his  entire  accordance  with  the  proposal  recommended  by 
Mr.  Webster,  and  approved  of  by  Mr.  McGregor,  and  re- 
quested the  latter,  as  he  (Lord  John)  was  not  in  a  position  to 
do  it  himself,  to  intimate  his  opinion  to  Lord  Aberdeen.  Mr. 
McGregor,  through  Lord  Canning,  under-secretary  for  the  for- 
eign department,  did  so,  and  the  result  was,  that  the  first  packet 
that  left  England  carried  out  to  America  the  proposal,  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  communication  already  referred  to,  on  which 
the  treaty  of  Oregon  was  happily  concluded." 

While  the  war  with  Mexico  was  in  progress,  and  while  it 
was  becoming  more  and  more  expensive,  as  well  as  more  and 
more  doubtful  in  regard  to  its  termination,  the  administration 
proposed  to  amend  the  tariff  of  1842,  which  had  been  proposed 
by  congress,  and  accepted  by  the  people,  as  a  basis  for  the 
business  of  the  country.  Once  more,  indeed,  every  class  of 
business,  and  every  interest  of  every  citizen  of  the  republic, 
was  to  be  unsettled  for  the  sake  of  an  experiment,  for  a  long 
time  the  subject  of  party  speculation,  but  never  before  tried  in 
practice.  Not  only  was  the  tariff,  as  a  tariff,  to  be  tampered 
with,  but  the  principle  of  raising  revenue,  the  principle  on 
which  all  tariffs  are  based,  was  to  undergo  a  sudden  alteration. 
All  former  bills  of  tariff,  since  the  beginning  of  the  govern- 
ment, had  been  what  political  economists  call  specific,  which  lay 
certain  duties  on  certain  articles,  according  to  their  character 
and  their  relations,  individually,  to  the  business  of  the  country. 
The  new  bill  was  to  lay  duties  on  all  imports,  with  no  view  to 
the  protection  of  any  business  or  interest  of  the  country, 
whether  agricultural,  commercial,  or  manufacturing,  but  with  a 


RFVIVAL    OF    THE    SUB-TREASURY.  387 

sole  regard  to  the  market  value  of  the  article  in.ported.  All 
former  bills  had  aimed  at  both  revenue  and  protection  ;  and 
they  had  taken  such  shapes  as  would  raise  the  most  money  for 
the  treasury,  while  they  extended  the  greatest  amount  of  en- 
couragement to  labor,  thus  making  common  cause  between  the 
government  of  the  people  and  the  people  of  the  government. 
The  new  bill  proposed  simply  to  raise  money  for  the  govern- 
ment, without  any  respect  to  the  interests  of  the  people.  This 
sudden  and  radical  change  of  policy,  it  proposed  to  make  at  a 
time  when  the  people  were  already  taxed  to  the  amount  of 
about  half  a  million  of  dollars  per  day  to  carry  on  a  war  not  of 
their  own  undertaking,  but  forced  upon  them  by  the  influence, 
some  would  say  the  intrigues,  of  government.  The  new  bill 
was,  therefore,  looked  upon,  by  every  unprejudiced  mind,  as  an 
untried  and  doubtful  experiment,  particularly  unacceptable  at  a 
time  when  the  government*  and  the  people  needed  a  certain 
reliance  for  the  exigencies  of  the  moment,  and  when  the  busi- 
ness of  all  classes  could,  with  no  safety,  suffer  a  shock  so  sud- 
den and  so  fundamental.  This  was  the  light  in  which  Mr. 
Webster  held  it ;  and  accordingly,  in  a  speech  of  great  length, 
delivered  on  the  26th  and  27th  of  July,  1846,  he  met  it  with  a 
steadfast  and  sturdy  opposition.  As  his  main  positions,  he  ar- 
gued that  the  new  bill  was  unjust  and  impolitic  in  itself;  that 
it  was  exceedingly  unfriendly  to  commerce  ;  and  that  it  would 
prove  deleterious  to  the  labor,  and  to  all  the  laboring  and  pro- 
ducing classes,  of  the  country.  His  speech  was  learned,  elo- 
quent, and  able ;  but,  as  an  opposition  to  the  new  measure, 
which  was  supported  entirely  on  party  grounds,  it  was  unsuc- 
cessful. The  bill,  which  introduced  into  our  financial  system 
the  ad  valorem  principle  of  indirect  taxation,  passed  by  a  strong 
majority,  and  was  at  once  received  as  the  established  policy  of 
the  democratic  party. 

On  the  first  day  of  August,  1846,  Mr.  Webster  again  ad- 
dressed the  senate  on  the  bill  "  to  provide  for  the  better  organ- 
VOL.  i.  Q  25 


WEBBTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

ization  of  the  treasury,  and  for  the  collection,  safe-keeping, 
transfer  and  disbursement  of  the  public  revenue,"  which  was 
only  the  revival  of  the  old  sub-treasury  system.  That  system, 
brought  forward  by  Mr.  Van  Buren  at  the  extra  session  of 
1837,  had  been  twice  defeated  in  succession,  but  it  had  received 
a  majority,  and  become  a  law,  in  1840,  to  be  repealed  and 
abandoned  in  less  than  one  year  afterwards.  Now,  in  1846,  it 
was  reproduced  in  a  new  form ;  and,  as  before,  it  encountered 
the  opposition  of  Mr.  Webster.  His  remarks,  though  brief, 
were  powerful  and  pertinent;  but  the  administration  was  more 
powerful ;  and  his  voice,  equal  to  many  voices  in  debate,  was 
only  one  when  the  question  came  to  the  determination  of  a 
vote. 

In  the  spring  of  1847,  accompanied  by  his  family,  Mr.  Web- 
ster took  occasion,  in  the  recess  of  congress,  to  travel  somewhat 
extensively  through  the  southern 'states.  It  was  his  plan  to 
proceed  from  Boston  to  Washington,  from  Washington  south- 
ward along  the  Atlantic  coast  to  New  Orleans,  from  New 
Orleans  up  the  Mississippi,  and  the  Ohio,  and  over  the  rich 
prairies  and  rolling  uplands  of  that  interior  section  to  the  lakes, 
and  thence  homeward  through  New  York.  Before  leaving 
home,  he  resolved  to  have  as  little  to  do  with  politics  as  possi- 
ble ;  and  he  must  have  been  sincere  in  this  intention  ;  for,  had 
this  tour  of  sight-seeing,  as  is  frequently  the  case  with  politi- 
cians, been  a  political  journey  in  disguise,  he  certainly  could  not 
have  selected  a  more  unpropitious  field  for  the  gathering  of 
laurels.  He  had  never  been  a  southern  man,  nor  a  northern 
man  of  southern  principles,  but  an  American,  with  the  broad 
views  and  comprehensive  feelings  of  an  American,  with  too 
much  self-respect,  too  much  pride  of  character,  to  stoop  after 
popular  favor,  whether  from  the  north  or  south,  from  the 
east  or  west.  His  principles,  however,  had  led  him,  through 
his  entire  political  career,  to  take  a  position  against  the  propa- 
gation and  increase  of  slavery  ;  and  this,  in  spite  of  his  emi- 


VISIT   TO    THE    SOUTH.  389 

nent  abilities,  had  caused  him  to  be  looked  upon,  by  southern 
politicians,  with  general  disfavor,  and  sometimes  with  disrespect. 
The  people,  however,  of  every  section  of  the  country,  will  gen- 
erally follow  tht-ir  own  instincts,  their  own  intuitions,  their  own 
judgments,  without  too  much  deference  to  the  dictation  oi  those 
whom  their  own  favor  has  elevated  to  a  superior  rank.  Mr. 
Webster  found  it  so  on  his  journey  to  the  south.  The  citizens 
of  every  village,  town  and  city,  through  which  he  passed,  or  in 
which  he  stopped,  rushed  together  in  vast  crowds  to  pay  their 
warmest  admiration  to  a  man,  who,  though  not  of  their  partic- 
ular family,  belonged  to  the  great  American  brotherhood,  of 
which  they  everywhere  acknowledged  him  to  be  the  most  dis- 
tinguished living  ornament.  Not  only  did  Mr.  Webster's  visit 
give  the  southerners  occasion  to  manifest  their  admiration  of 
an  American  worthy  of  their  regard,  but  it  served  to  touch  a 
chord,  which,  perhaps,  is  more  delicate  and  more  responsive 
than  any  other  in  the  heart  of  a  true  southern  gentleman.  His 
visit  touched  upon  their  magnanimity.  Wherever  he  went, 
the  citizens  of  the  south  saw  a  man,  who,  though  known  to 
them  as  their  strongest  and  sturdiest  antagonist,  had  dared  to 
trust  himself,  and  his  comfort,  and  his  reputation  for  a  season, 
with  those  of  whom  he  had  bought  no  favor.  This  mark  of 
confidence  is  always  enough  for  a  genuine  southerner.  If  his 
worst  enemy  comes  to  his  door  in  this  spirit,  he  springs  to  his 
feet  with  a  most  hearty  welcome ;  and  he  will  shower  him 
with  attentions,  heartfelt  and  heart-moving,  so  long  as  such  an 
act  of  confidence  may  be  continued.  This  generous  trait  of 
character  greatly  impressed  the  equally  noble  disposition  of 
Mr.  Webster.  After  his  return,  he  frequently  made  it  the 
subject  of  his  eulogy ;  and  he  has  often  said  that,  in  this  pecu- 
liar magnanimity,  he  never  saw  a  people  more  remarkable  than 
those  he  met  with  during  his  brief  visit  to  tin  south.  With 
all  his  acknowledgment,  however,  it  must  still  be  remembered 
that  the  homage  was  paid,  not  to  an  individual  having  no  per 


390  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

sonal  claims  for  such  distinction,  but  to  an  American  renowned 
the  world  over  for  the  originality  and  grandeur  of  his  genius. 
Whatever  the  motives,  nevertheless,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
l.liiit  Mr.  Webster  was  everywhere  received  with  as  much 
ceremony,  with  as  much  eclat,  with  as  much  applause,  in  all 
the  large  places  which  he  visited,  as  he  ever  had  been  in  New 
York,  or  in  Boston ;  and  had  not  sickness  stopped  him  at  Sa- 
vannah, and  sent  him  homeward  before  his  time,  it  can  scarcely 
be  conjectured  with  what  swelling  triumphs  he  would  have  been 
greeted,  as  he  had  wound  his  way  up  the  great  western  rivers, 
through  the  midst  of  a  mighty  population  capable  of  apprecia- 
ting real  greatness,  and  able,  as  it  is  always  willing,  to  give  it 
au  appropriate  welcome. 

On  his  return  to  congress,  after  spending  a  short  period  in 
the  quiet  of  his  home,  the  first  thing  that  met  him  in  the  senate 
was  the  war  with  Mexico,  at  that  time  the  engrossing  topic 
throughout  the  country.  On  former  occasions,  he  had  spoken 
of  the  war  in  the  presence  of  the  senate.  His  first  speech  on 
that  subject  had  been  delivered  as  early  as  the  24th  of  June, 
1846,  on  a  bill  whose  object  was  to  organize  the  volunteer  force 
which  the  war  had  invited  into  the  service  of  the  United  States. 
In  the  month  of  March,  1847,  he  had  also  spoken  briefly  upon 
reading  to  the  senate  certain  resolutions  of  the  legislature  of 
Massachusetts,  in  which  the  war  had  been  unanimously  con- 
demned. Now,  during  the  session  of  1847-8,  while  the  same 
subject  occupied  every  tongue  and  pen  in  the  country  usually 
devoted  to  public  matters,  he  remained  a  silent  observer,  till 
the  17th  of  March,  1848,  when  he  again  addressed  the  senate 
on  the  so-called  Ten  Kegiment  bill ;  but  it  was  not  until  the 
23d  of  March,  of  this  year,  that  he  made  an  elaborate  and  full 
speech  on  this  engrossing  subject.  That  speech,  clear,  strong 
and  conclusive  in  itself,  was  made  under  circumstances  adapted 
to  rouse  the  orator  more  profoundly  than  he  was  generally  ac- 
customed to  be  roused.  On  the  2d  of  February  preceding,  a 


SINGULAR    PEACE    MEA8CRE8.  391 

"treaty  of  peace  friendship,  limits  and  settlement,  between tho 
United  States  of  America  and  the  Mexican  Republic,"  had 
been  signed  at  Guadalupe  Hidalgo.  On  the  16th  of  March 
succeeding,  this  treaty,  with  the  advice  and  consent  of  the  sen- 
ate, had  been  ratified  by  the  president  of  the  United  States,  and 
sent  back  to  Mexico  in  charge  of  two  ministers  empowered  to 
explain  it  to  the  government  and  people  of  that  republic. 
Nevertheless,  after  the  final  ratification  of  the  treaty,  when 
peace  existed  between  the  United  States  and  Mexico,  congress 
was  called  upon,  by  a  special  message  from  the  president,  to 
enact  measures  more  formidable  than  had  been  found  neces- 
sary during  the  progress  of  the  war.  It  was  called  upon  to 
raise  and  send  into  immediate  service  an  additional  force  of 
thirty  thousand  men,  and  to  make  a  loan  of  sixteen  millions  of 
dollars  to  defray  the  opening  expenses  of  these  troops.  This, 
as  a  peace  measure,  called  for  in  a  time  of  peace,  was  quite  too 
belligerent  for  Mr.  Webster.  It  looked  to  him  like  the  be- 
ginning of  a  standing  army.  The  object  of  this  great  force,  it 
was  said,  was  to  take  and  keep  possession  of  those  vast  acqui- 
sitions of  territory,  which  the  war  with  Mexico  bid  put  under  our 
temporary  dominion.  It  was  not  to  keep  them  against  the 
Mexican  government ;  for  that  government,  if  such  a  thing  ex- 
isted, had  consented,  formally  and  legally  in  the  treaty,  to  those 
immense  acquisitions.  It  was  to  keep  them  against  the  people 
of  Mexico,  who  were  outraged  more  at  the  imbecility  of  their 
own  government,  than  at  the  hungry  and  unscrupulous  ambi- 
tion manifested  by  this  country.  It  was  to  be,  not  in  figure 
of  speoch,  but  in  fact,  a  standing  army  in  time  of  peace,  whose 
sole  object  was,  as  expressed  by  Mr.  Cass,  the  champion  of 
these  measures  in  the  senate,  to  frighten  our  fellow-citizens  of 
the  conquered  territories  into  submission,  and  compel  them 
to  become  peaceable,  though  unwilling,  citizens  of  the  grwit 
republic. 

To  this  entire  system  of  measures,  Mr.  Webster  stood  up 


392  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

in  determined  opposition.  He  could  see  no  necessity  for  them. 
If  the  people  of  the  conquered  provinces  did  not  choose  to 
become  citizens  of  this  country,  he  di<  no<  see  the  justice  of 
compelling  them,  by  an  armed  soldiery  to  be  conveniently 
posted  throughout  their  country.  Such  a  course  seemed  to 
him  inconsistent  with  the  precepts  and  practice  of  our  hith- 
erto free  government.  It  looked  to  him  like  governing  by 
military  power,  as  in  Russia  and  other  despotic  countries, 
rather  than  by  public  opinion,  as  this  government  is  professedly 
administered.  With  the  inauguration  of  such  a  system,  he 
justly  thought,  began,  or  rather  was  perfected,  the  government 
of  the  bayonet,  which,  from  Mexico,  might  be  imported  back 
into  the  older  states  of  the  confederation.  He  did  not  forget, 
probably,  that  it  was  Caesar's  army  of  occcupation,  sent  into 
Spain  to  awe  the  inhabitants  into  a  quiet  submission  to  the  mil- 
itary sway  of  Rome,  which,  in  due  course  of  events,  returned 
to  take  command  of  the  capital,  and  set  up  a  martial  govern- 
ment that  began  with  the  fall  of  Roman  liberty,  and  ended 
with  the  dismemberment  and  prostration  of  the  empire. 

There  was  another  reason  for  his  opposition,  which  he  might 
have  forcibly  illustrated,  also,  from  the  example  of  ancient 
Rome.  The  treaty  of  Guadalupe  Hidalgo,  which  this  system 
of  military  measures  was  to  enforce,  was  to  confirm  a  vast  and 
dangerous  expansion  of  our  territory,  was  to  bring  in  immeas- 
urable tracts  of  land,  on  our  southern  and  south-western  border, 
into  which  slavery  was  to  be  admitted,  greatly  to  the  hazard  of 
the  integrity  of  the  nation,  or  excluded  by  a  congressional  con- 
tost,  which  might  shake  the  republic  to  its  foundations.  The 
dominant  party,  however,  backed  by  the  army,  and  by  new 
levies  of  troops,  and  by  the  contemplated  loan  of  a  great  sum 
of  money,  which,  in  a  time  of  peace,  they  were  to  use  among 
the  unwilling  citizens  of  Mexico,  carried  all  their  measures, 
brought  in  the  conquered  provinces,  kept  them  quiet  by  the  com- 
bined powe'-  of  gunpowder  and  of  gold,  and  revived  in  congress 


WEBSTER'S  OPPOSITION  TO  THEM.  393 

ana  in  tho  country,  the  old  contest,  in  a  more  fearful  shap-i 
than  had  ever  before  existed,  respecting  slavery.  Mr.  Web- 
ster expressed  a  readiness  to  vote  for  the  treaty,  provided  that 
part  of  it  should  be  stricken  out,  which  ceded  to  us  New  Mex- 
ico and  California  ;  but  to  the  acquisition  of  any  farther  terri- 
tory, by  whatever  means,  he  set  himself  in  an  immovable  po- 
sition of  hostility :  "  I  think  I  see  that  in  progress,"  said  the 
senator,  "  which  will  disfigure  and  deform  the  constitution. 
While  these  territories  remain  territories,  they  will  be  a  trouble 
and  an  annoyance  ;  they  will  draw  after  them  vast  expenses  ; 
they  will  probably  require  as  many  troops  as  we  have  main- 
tained for  the  last  twenty  years,  to  defend  them  against  the 
Indian  tribes.  We  must  maintain  an  army  at  that  immense 
distance.  W^hen  they  shall  become  states,  they  will  be  still 
more  likely  to  give  us  trouble. 

"  I  think  I  see  a  course  adopted,  which  is  likely  to  turn  the 
constitution  of  the  land  into  a  deformed  monster,  into  a  curse, 
rather  than  a  blessing ;  in  fact,  a  frame  of  an  unequal  govern- 
ment, not  founded  on  popular  representation,  but  on  the  grossest 
inequality  ;  and  1  think  that  this  process  will  go  on,  or  that 
there  is  danger  that  it  will  go  on,  until  this  Union  shall  fell  to 
pieces.  I  resist  it,  to-day  and  always  !  Whoever  falters,  or 
whoever  flies,  I  continue  the  contest ! 

"  I  know,  sir,  that  all  the  portents  are  discouraging.  Would 
to  God  I  could  auspicate  good  influences  !  Would  to  God  that 
those  who  think  with  me,  and  myself,  could  hope  for  stronger 
support !  WTould  that  we  could  stand  where  we  desire  to 
stand !  I  see  the  signs  are  sinister.  But  with  few,  or  alone, 
my  position  is  fixed.  If  there  were  time,  I  would  gladly  awa- 
ken the  country.  I  believe  the  country  might  be  awakened, 
although  it  may  be  too  late.  For  myself,  supported  or  unsup- 
ported, by  the  blessing  of  God,  I  shall  do  my  duty.  I  see  well 
enough  all  the  adverse  indications.  But  I  am  sustained  by  a 
deep  and  conscientiors  sense  of  duty ;  and  whil»  supported 


394  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

by  that  feeling,  and  while  such  great  interests  are  at  stake,  1 
defy  auguries,  and  ask  no  omens  but  my  country's  cause  ! " 

There  are  some  portions  of  this  speech,  which,  though  per- 
fectly logical  at  the  moment,  will  cause  a  smile  at  the  present 
time.  An  argument  may  be  good  to-day,  but  to-morrow,  by 
the  development  of  some  previously  unknown  fact,  or  by  the 
mysterious  orderings  of  divine  providence,  may  be  simply  lu- 
dicrous, for  the  first  time,  and  for  the  last  time,  so  far  as  is 
now  apparent,  this  was  about  to  be  the  case  with  a  portion  of 
the  argument  advanced  by  Mr.  Webster.  Among  other  rea- 
sons for  opposing  the  singular  measures  of  the  administration, 
in  relation  to  the  conquest  and  acquisition  of  a  part  of  Mexico, 
in  all  of  which  he  exhibited  his  usual  knowledge,  tact  and  force 
of  reasoning,  he  went  on  to  show  the  absolute  worthlessness  of 
the  newly-acquired  provinces  :  "  There  are  some  things,"  says 
the  orator,  "  one  can  argue  against  with  temper,  and  submit  to, 
if  overruled,  without  mortification.  There  are  other  things  that 
seem  to  affect  one's  consciousness  of  being  a  sensible  man,  and 
to  imply  a  disposition  to  impose  upon  his  common  sense. 
And  of  this  class  of  topics,  or  pretensions,  1  have  never  heard 
of  anything,  and  I  cannot  conceive  of  anything,  more  ridiculous 
in  itself,  more  absurd,  and  more  affrontive  to  all  sober  judg- 
ment, than  the  cry  that  we  are  getting  indemnity  by  the  ac- 
quisition of  New  Mexico  and  California.  1  hold  they  are  not 
worth  a  dollar ;  and  we  pay  for  them  vast  sums  of  money  ! " 
In  another  part  of  the  speech,  after  proving  by  good  author- 
ity all  he  desired  to  prove  in  relation  to  New  Mexico,  he  broke 
out  into  one  of  his  strains  of  sarcasm,  which  produced  quite  a 
scene  of  merriment  in  the  senate,  in  which  his  opponents  joined  as 
heartily  as  his  warmest  friends  :  "  New  Mexico  is  secluded, 
isolated,  a  place  by  itself,  in  the  midst  and  at  the  foot  of  vast 
mountains,  five  hundred  miles  from  the  settled  part  of  Texas, 
and  as  far  from  anywhere  else  !  It  does  not  belong  anywhere ! 
(t  has  no  bdonginqs  about  it!  At  this  moment  it  is  absolutely 


OPINION    OF    THE    TWO    PROVINCES.  395 

more  retired  and  shut  out  from  communication  with  the  civi- 
lized world  than  Hawaii  or  any  of  the  other  islands  of  the  Pa- 
cific sea.  In  seclusion  and  remoteness,  New  Mexico  IT  ay  press 
hard  on  the  character  and  condition  of  Typee.  And  its  people 
are  infinitely  less  elevated,  in  morals  and  condition,  than  the 
people  of  the  Sandwich  Islands.  We  had  much  better  have 
senators  from  Oahu.  They  are  far  less  intelligent  than  the 
better  class  of  our  Indian  neighbors.  Commend  me  to  the 
Cherokees,  to  the  Choctaws,  if  you  please,  speak  of  the  Paw- 
nees, of  the  Snakes,  the  Flatfeet,  of  anything  but  the  digging 
Indians,  and  I  will  be  satisfied  not  to  take  the  people  of  New 
Mexico."  For  half  an  hour,  the  senator  proceeded  in  his  most 
facetious  humor,  describing  the  soil  and  population  of  that  prov- 
ince, telling  the  senate  that  he  was  endeavoring  to  give  them  a 
suitable  introduction  to  their  "  respected  and  beloved  fellow-cit- 
izens "  of  New  Mexico  ! 

And  he  had  but  little  better  opinion  of  the  sister  province : 
"  How  is  it,"  he  asks,  "  with  California?  We  propose  to  take 
California,  from  the  forty-second  degree  of  north  latitude  down 
to  the  thirty -second.  We  propose  to  take  ten  degrees  along 
the  coast  of  the  Pacific.  Scattered  along  the  coast  for  that 
great  distance  are  settlements,  and  villages,  and  posts ;  and  in 
the  rear,  all  is  wilderness,  and  barrenness,  and  Indian  country. 
But  if,  just  about  San  Francisco,  and  perhaps  Monterey,  emi- 
grants enough  should  settle  to  make  up  one  state,  then  the  peo- 
ple five  hundred  miles  off  would  have  another  state." 

The  existence  of  such  a  state,  so  far  from  the  center  of  the 
republic,  Mr.  Webster  thought  would  prove  disastrous  to  th*> 
unity  and  harmony  of  the  country  :  "  In  the  little  part  which 
I  have  acted  in  public  life,  it  has  been  my  purpose  to  maintain 
the  people  of  the  United  States,  what  the  constitution  designed 
to  make  them,  one  people,  one  in  interest,  one  in  character,  and 
one  in  political  feeling.  If  we  depart  from  that,  we  break  it 
all  up.  What  sympathy  can  there  be  between  the  people  of 
VOL.  i.  Q* 


MEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

Mexico  and  California  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  valley  of  the 
Mississippi  and  the  eastern  states  in  the  choice  of  a  president  ] 
Do  they  know  the  same  man  1  Do  they  concur  in  any  gen- 
eral constitutional  principles  1  Not  at  all ! " 

All  this  reasoning,  it  is  evident,  is  at  this  day  as  valid  re- 
specting one  of  the  two  provinces,  as  it  was  when  delivered, 
and  it  would  be  as  valid  of  the  other,  had  not  the  discovery  of 
the  mines,  of  which,  in  1848,  there  was  not  the  shadow  of  a 
dream,  changed  the  current  of  nearly  every  pecuniary  interest 
of  the  country.  In  ten  years,  in  one  year,  it  may  not  continue 
to  be  valid  of  New  Mexico.  Some  discovery  may  be  made 
there,  some  rich  mine  of  gold,  or  silver,  or  coal,  or  iron,  may 
come  to  light,  which  will  cause  thousands  to  rush  to  it, 
as  to  another  El  Dorado,  in  the  pursuit  of  wealth.  At  the 
foot  of  some  of  its  lofty  mountains,  or  on  the  surface  of  some 
of  its  barren  plains,  healing  springs  may  be  found  to  issue, 
which,  in  reality  or  ui  fame,  shall  surpass  all  the  health-giving 
fountains  of  the  world  ;  and  the  air  of  the  climate,  cooled  by 
the  mountain  peaks,  and  dried  by  the  immense  plains  of  chap- 
para]  and  sand,  may  be  found  to  be  so  balmy,  that  a  region 
now  utterly  desolate  shall  at  some  future  day  become  a  com- 
mon watering-place  for  the  wealthiest  of  the  race,  whose  resi- 
dence and  whose  visits  shall  build  up  a  hundred  cities,  and 
make  gold  and  silver  as  plenty  as  the  dust  upon  their  streets. 
All  this,  however,  would  not  destroy  the  logical  force  of  Mr. 
Webster's  reasoning.  A  similar  fortune,  on  the  part  of  Cali- 
fornia, has  not  marred  the  argument  which  no  man  could  an- 
swer when  it  was  delivered.  Smile  as  we  will,  and  smile  as 
we  may,  on  reading  such  passges  as  have  been  quoted,  the 
smile  will  not  change  the  moral  character  of  the  war  with  Mex- 
ico, or  abate  the  propriety  of  Mr.  Webster's  opposition  to  it, 
until  the  sophism  is  established  as  a  law  in  logic,  that  the  end 
justifies  the  means. 

In  spite  of  the  opposition  of  Mr.  Webster,  and  in  spite  of  the 


SLAVERY    QUESTION    REVIVED.  397 

opposition  of  other  able  and  patriotic  men,  the  territories  of 
New  Mexico  and  California  were  acquired  in  the  manner  here- 
tofore described ;  and,  as  Mr.  Webster  forewarned  the  senate 
and  the  country,  the  first  question  that  arose  threatened  a  dis- 
solution of  the  Union.  These  vast  tracts  of  unoccupied  terri- 
tory being  once  upon  our  hands,  congress  could  not  agree  as  to 
the  disposition  that  should  be  made  of  them  ;  and  they  became 
at  once  the  subjects  of  a  violent  controversy  between  the  north 
and  the  south.  Three  views  prevailed  in  congress.  The  first, 
that  the  whole  territory  should  be  open  to  slavery,  was  advo- 
cated strenuously  by  the  southern  democrats,  who  were  led  in 
this  opinion  by  Mr.  Calhoun.  The  second,  that  the  whole  ter- 
ritory should  be  shut  against  slavery,  was  maintained  by  the 
northern  whigs,  and  by  several  southern  whigs,  at  the  head  of 
which  anti-slavery  party  stood  Mr.  Webster.  The  third  party, 
which  was  started  as  a  sort  of  compromise  between  the  two 
extremes,  proposed  to  divide  the  territory  between  slavery  and 
freedom  by  extending  the  line  of  the  Missouri  compromise  to  the 
Pacific;  and  this  party  was  under  the  leadership  of  Mr.Douglas. 
The  discussion  of  these  several  questions  did  not  come  up 
in  congress  directly  on  their  own  merits,  but  indirectly,  as  is 
apt  to  be  the  case  in  the  settlement  of  vexed  disputes,  on  the 
bill  for  the  organization  of  a  territorial  government  for  Oregon. 
A  bill  for  such  an  organization  passed  the  house  during  the 
first  session  of  the  thirtieth  congress ;  and  when  it  came  to 
the  senate,  an  amendment  was  offered  by  Mr.  Douglas,  apply- 
ing to  it,  and  indirectly  to  the  newly  acquired  territories,  the 
doctrine  of  the  Missouri  compromise,  which  gave  the  whole  of 
California  and  New  Mexico,  below  the  parallel  of  36  degrees  30 
minutes, to  slavery.  An  animated  debate  arose  upon  this  amend- 
ment, which,  in  spite  of  a  steady  opposition  on  the  part  of  Mr. 
Webster,  passed  the  senate  by  a  strict  party  vote.  On  t'he 
10th  of  August,  1848,  the  bill  came  back  from  the  lower  house, 
w«th  the  non-concurrence  of  that  body  in  the  amendment  of 


398  tVEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTKR-PIECES. 

Mr.  Douglas.  The  question  was  now,  whether  the  senate 
would  recede ;  and  on  this  question  Mr.  Webster  delivered  his 
speech  of  the  12th  of  August,  on  the.  exclusion  of  slavery  from 
the  territories,  the  most  elaborate  of  all  his  speeches  upon  this 
subject.  Of  course,  he  urged  the  senate  to  recede  ;  and  he  did 
so  partly  because  he  thought  the  amendment  unparliamentary, 
having  nothing  to  do  with  the  bill  to  which  it  was  attached. 
But  his  strongest  objections  to  the  amendment  were  based  on 
its  political  and  moral  principle.  He  was  opposed  to  giving 
any  more  ground  to  slavery.  He  maintained,  that  the  slavery 
permitted  by  the  constitution  in  some  of  the  southern  states  is 
a  peculiar  slavery,  the  worst  that  ever  existed  in  any  age  or 
country ;  that  the  north,  trusting  to  the  supposed  intention  of 
the  south,  professed  at  the  time  of  framing  and  adopting  the 
constitution,  of  effecting  the  gradual  abolition  of  slavery  in  the 
southern  states,  as  opportunity  might  offer,  had  consented  to 
the  implied  recognition  of  slavery  in  that  instrument  only  in 
view  of  such  profession  ;  that  this  new  zeal  of  sustaining  and 
extending  slavery  was  not  dreamed  of  either  by  the  northern 
or  southern  members  of  the  convention  which  framed  the  con- 
stitution ;  that,  contrary  to  all  expectation,  and  to  the  spirit  of 
the  compromise  then  entered  into,  immense  regions  of 'territory 
had  been  added  to  the  Union,  on  our  southern  border,  under 
the  lead  of  southern  politicians,  out  of  which  five  slave  states  had 
been  created,  while  not  one  free  state  had  been  then  permit- 
ted to  come  into  the  confederacy  in  the  way  of  compensation  ; 
and  that  for  these,  as  well  as  for  other  reasons,  not  another  foot 
of  territory  ought  to  be  given  up  to  this  devouring  ambition 
of  the  south  :  "  I  have  said,"  remarked  the  senator  in  the  con- 
clusion of  his  speech,  "that  I  shall  consent  to  no  extension  of 
die  area  of  slavery  upon  this  continent,  nor  to  any  increase  of 
slave  representation  in  the  other  house  of  congress.  I  have 
now  stated  my  reasons  for  my  conduct  and  my  vote.  We  of 
the  north  have  already  gone,  in  this  respect,  far  beyond  all  that 


OPPOSES    EXTENSION    OF    SLAVERY.  399 

any  southern  man  could  have  expected,  or  did  expect,  at  the 
time  of  the  adoption  of  the  constitution.  I  repeat  the  state- 
ment of  the  fact  of  the  creation  of  five  new  slaveholding  states 
out  of  newly-acquired  territory.  We  have  done  that  which,  if 
those  who  framed  the  constitution  had  foreseen,  they  never 
would  have  agreed  to  slave  represenation.  We  have  yielded 
thus  far ;  and  we  have  now  in  the  house  of  representatives 
twenty  persons  voting  upon  this  very  question,  and  upon  all 
other  questions,  who  are  there  only  in  virtue  of  the  represent- 
ation of  slaves. 

"  Let  me  conclude,  therefore,  by  remarking,  that,  while  I 
am  willing  to  present  this  as  showing  my  own  judgment  and 
position,  in  regard  to  this  case, — and  I  beg  it  to  be  understood 
that  I  am  speaking  for  no  other  than  myself — and  while  I  am 
willing  to  offer  it  to  the  world  as  my  own  justification,  I  rest 
•jn  these  propositions  :  First,  that  when  the  constitution  was 
adopted,  nobody  looked  for  any  new  acquisition  of  territory  to 
be  formed  into  slave  holding  states.  Secondly,  that  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  constitution  prohibited,  and  were  intended  to  pro- 
hibit, and  should  be  construed  to  prohibit,  all  interference  of 
the  general  government  with  slavery  as  it  existed  and  as  it  still 
exists  in  ohe  states.  And  then,  looking  to  the  operation  of 
these  new  acquisitions,  which  have  in  this  great  degree  had  the 
effect  of  strengthening  that  interest  in  the  south  by  the  addition 
of  these  five  states,  I  feel  that  there  is  nothing  unjust,  nothing 
of  which  any  honest  man  can  complain,  if  he  is  intelligent;  and 
I  feel  that  there  is  nothing  with  which  the  civilized  world,  if 
they  take  notice  of  so  humble  a  person  as  myself,  will  reproach 
me,  when  I  say,  as  I  said  the  other  day,  that  I  have  made  up 
my  mind,  for  one,  that  under  no  circumstances  will  I  consent 
to  the  further  extension  of  the  area  of  slavery  in  the  United 
States,  or  to  the  further  increase  of  slave  representation  in  the 
house  of  representatives." 

So"  violent  was  the  contest  on  this  occasion,  between  the  &d 


400  WEBSTEK    AXD    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

vocates  of  freedom  and  the  propagandists  of  slavery,  that  the 
debate  marked  on  the  journals  as  occurring  on  the  12th  of 
August,  which  was  on  Saturday,  actually  extended  to  ten 
o'clock  on  Sunday  morning.  Mr.  Webster  had  spoken  fre- 
quently on  the  subject,  but  never,  perhaps,  with  so  positive  a 
determination.  His  exertions  had  their  success.  The  senate 
receded  from  the  amendment  of  Mr.  Douglas ;  no  part  of  the 
new  territory  was  given  up  to  slavery  ;  but  another  bill,  im- 
mediately upon  the  final  action  of  the  senate  on  this  last  ques- 
tion, came  to  it  from  the  lower  house,  providing  for  the  organ- 
ization of  territorial  governments  for  New  Mexico  and  Califor- 
nia, with  the  anti-slavery  or  Wilmot  proviso  appended  to  it. 
This  was  rejected  by  the  senate ;  and,  in  consequence,  these 
two  territories  were  left  without  a  proper  government  till  the  sec- 
ond session  of  this  congress,  when  it  was  moved  by  Mr.  Walker, 
of  Wisconsin,  to  extend  the  revenue  laws,  and  all  other  laws 
of  the  United  States  applicable  to  their  case,  to  California  and 
New  Mexico.  This  motion  was  attached  to  the  general  appra 
priation  bill ;  and  when  it  came  to  the  lower  house,  it  was 
there  amended  by  the  addition  again  of  the  anti-slavery  pro- 
viso, which  was  again  rejected  in  the  senate.  The  controversy 
proceeded,  with  such  intemperate  zeal,  that  the  senate  came 
near  to  a  dissolution ;  and  it  is  stated  by  Mr.  Everett,  on  au- 
thority to  him  satisfactory,  that  nothing  but  the  cool  temper 
and  commanding  influence  of  Mr.  Webster  saved  that  body 
from  this  catastrophe  and  the  country  from  dishonor.  He  was 
the  only  man,  it  seems,  who,  after  warning  congress  of  the  haz- 
ard to  which,  by  their  war  and  their  acquisitions,  they  were  ex- 
posing the  republic,  could  save  the  republic  from  the  ruin  when 
it  was  about  to  fall  upon  us. 

It  was  entirely  natural,  as  actually  happened,  that  the  people 
of  the  United  States,  alarmed  at  this  condition  of  things  in  con- 
gress, and  knowing  its  origin  and  paternity,  should  begin  to 
waver  in  their  attachment  to  a  party  which  had  reduced  the 


NOMINATION    OF    GENERAL    TAYLOR.  40 J 

country  to  such  a  scene  of  discord.  They  began  to  be  alarmed 
for  the  safety  of  our  institutions  and  for  the  perpetuity  of  the 
government.  They  began  to  wish  for  a  change  in  the  admin- 
istration ;  and,  as  Providence  had  ordered  it,  it  so  occurred, 
that  just  as  this  crisis  was  coming  on,  the  man  who  had  been 
sent  to  Mexico  to  carry  forward  the  designs  of  Mr.  Folk's 
cabinet,  General  Zachary  Taylor,  had  been  everywhere  fol- 
lowed by  such  splendid  fortunes,  as  a  military  chieftain,  as  to 
secure  his  nomination  for  the  presidency  by  acclamation.  The 
nomination  was  made,  in  the  first  instance,  not  by  a  regular 
convention  of  the  people,  according  to  established  custom,  but 
by  the  soldiers  under  his  command  after  the  victory  of  Palo 
Alto,  and  on  the  blood-stained  battle-field  of  Buena  Vista.  It 
was  confirmed,  of  course,  in  the  convention  afterwards  held  in 
Philadelphia,  to  the  exclusion  of  several  illustrious  statesmen, 
who  were  regarded  by  every  citizen,  in  his  sober  moments,  as 
more  worthy  of  the  honor.  Men  of  cool  judgment,  and  of  suf- 
ficient knowledge  of  the  past  to  give  them  the  probabilities  of 
the  future,  demurred  at  this  nomination  ;  and  among  this  class 
of  citizens,  in  spite  of  the  delicacy  of  the  case,  was  Mr.  Web- 
ster. In  a  speech  made  at  Marshfield,  to  his  friends  and  neigh- 
bors, he  was  free  to  give  his  opinion  plainly  of  the  new  candi- 
date. He  regarded  him  as  an  honest,  upright,  good  citizen. 
He  acknowledged  him  to  be  in  principle  a  sound  whig.  His 
only  title  to  reputation,  however,  Mr.  Webster  set  down  as  a 
mere  military  title ;  and  he  did  not  think  well  of  going  to  the 
army,  and  especially  to  the  army  of  Mexico,  for  a  candidate  for 
the  first  office  of  the  country.  Washington  and  Harrison,  he 
admitted,  had  been  soldiers ;  but  they  had  also  been  equally 
acquainted  with  civil  matters.  This  Mexican  army  was  an 
army  of  invasion.  It  was  such  an  army  as  military  Rome, 
after  her  military  despotism  was  established,  used  to  acncl  ^ul 
to  surrounding  countries ;  and  the  successful  commander  had 
been  nominated,  just  as  the  successful  Roman  generals  usfd  tc 


402  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

be  nominated,  away  on  the  battle-field,  and  sent  back  '  •  take 
possession  of  the  capital  of  their  country.  The  military  Mind, 
and  the  habits  of  a  military  mind,  were  such  as  to  give  n  able 
general  no  popularity  with  Mr.  Webster  for  the  first  j  osition 
in  the  management  of  civil  business.  "The  military  mind," 
says  the  candid  Tacitus,  though  speaking  of  his  relative  and 
hero,  Agricola,  "  trained  up  in  the  school  of  war,  is  generally 
supposed  to  want  the  power  of  nice  discrimination.  The  juris- 
diction of  the  camp  is  little  solicitous  about  forms  and  subtle 
reasoning ;  military  law  is  blunt  and  summary ;  and,  where 
the  sword  resolves  all  difficulties,  the  refined  discussions  of  tta 
forum  are  never  practiced."  That  is,  just  so  far  as  the  military 
manner  is  introduced  into  the  administration  of  a  government, 
so  far  personal  authority  takes  the  place  of  counsel  and  delib- 
eration, and  just  so  far  the  practice,  and  gradually  the  liberty, 
of  speech  is  laid  aside.  Such  was  the  opinion  of  the  first  minds 
of  the  country  at  the  time  of  this  nomination.  Such  had  been 
the  experience  of  the  country  under  the  presidency  of  General 
Jackson,  who,  like  a  true  military  man,  "  took  the  responsibil- 
ity," as  his  phrase  was,  of  all  the  measures  of  his  administra- 
tion. In  other  words,  the  measures  were  all  his  own,  proceed- 
ing solely  and  authoritatively  from  his  own  volition.  For  this 
very  reason,  in  part,  plainly  stated  and  everywhere  repeated, 
the  whig  party  had  .twice  opposed  the  election  of  General 
Jackson;  and  Mr.  Webster,  having  honestly  entertained  his 
objections  to  a  military  chieftain  at  those  times,  and  having 
often  publicly  expressed  them,  could  not  now  turn  round  upor, 
himself,  with  the  levity  and  facility  of  a  third-rate  politician, 
and  receive  as  his  first  choice  a  man  whose  only  distinction  had 
been  gained  on  the  field  of  battle.  To  preserve  his  consistency, 
on  this  point,  he  expressed  his  dissent  to  the  nomination  ;  but 
to  maintain  the  same  virtue,  as  the  member  of  a  party  pledged 
to  support  regular  nominations,  he  finally  yielded  to  thf 


CONSTITUTION    OF    CALIFORNIA.  403 

decision  of  the  coin  ention  and  advocated  the  election  of  General 
Taylor. 

In  the  summer  and  autumn  of  the  year  1849.  an  event  took 
place  in  California,  which  took  the  country,  and  especially  the 
southern  states,  by  as  much  surprise,  as  had  the  first  discovery 
of  the  gold-fields  in  the  valley  of  the  Sacramento.  That  event 
was  the  erection  of  a  state,  and  the  adoption  of  a  constitution, 
without  the  aid  or  even  knowledge  of  the  federal  congress,  by 
the  people  of  California,  now  sufficiently  numerous  for  the  pur- 
pose, into  which  they  had ,  incorporated  the  anti-slavery  pro- 
viso, which  had  come  so  near  causing  a  dissolution  of  congress 
and  the  Union  ;  and,  before  the  people  this  side  the  mountains 
had  fairly  ascertained  that  any  such  thing  was  to  be  underta- 
ken, the  representatives  of  California,  with  their  constitution  in 
their  hands,  stood  at  the  doors  of  congress,  seeking,  if  it  would 
not  be  more  proper  to  say  demanding,  entrance.  To  the  south- 
ern democratic  party,  who  had  used  their  united  influence  to 
bring  the  country  into  the  war  with  Mexico,  for  the  purpose 
of  adding  more  slave  territory  to  the  republic,  this  occurrence 
came  as  a  sad  and  provoking  disappointment ;  and  it  was  a 
matter  of  almost  equal  regret  to  that  part  of  the  northern  de- 
mocracy, headed  by  Mr.  Douglas,  who  had  undertaken  to  sat- 
isfy the  south,  and  thereby  promote  his  own  aspirations,  by 
running  the  Missouri  line  of  compromise  westward  to  the  Pa- 
cific. California  had  cut  off  the  speculations  and  designs  of 
both  portions  of  that  party  by  this  unexpected  act ;  and  the 
election  of  General  Taylor,  who  was  supposed  to  be  in  favor 
of  the  Californians,  and  opposed  to  the  further  extension  of 
slavery,  served  to  complete  the  mortification  and  stir  up  the 
passions  of  both  sections,  and  of  every  individual,  who  had  in- 
tended to  propagate  this  species  of  oppression  by  this  war  wilh 
a  tottering  republic.  The  position  of  California,  her  bold  de- 
mand to  be  admitted  as  a  free  state  and  with  her  own  consti- 
tution, into  the  American  confederacy,  was  at  once  the  storting 
VOL.  i.  26 


404  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

point  of  ar  other  congressional  debate,  and  of  renewed  man*  u 
vers  outside  of  congress,  which,  for  folly  and  extravagance,  have 
not  been  paralleled  since  the  inauguration  of  the  federal  gov- 
ernment. Conventions  of  the  southern  members  had  been 
called,  during  the  first  session  of  the  thirtieth  congress,  and 
they  were  now  called  again,  during  the  progress  of  the  second 
session,  to  meet  in  sight  of  that  capitol,  from  whose  dome  the 
stars  and  stripes  daily  floated,  whose  avowed  object  was  to  in- 
vite and  induce  the  non-slaveholding  states  to  unite  in  opposition 
to  the  general  government,  provided  these  anti-slavery  views 
were  adopted  in  respect  to  the  newly-acquired  territories.  An 
address  had  been  prepared,  written  by  Mr.  Calhoun,  who  still 
took  the  lead  of  this  southern  party,  "of  the  southern  delegates 
to  their  constituents,"  which,  by  a  series  of  concealed  sophisms, 
and  by  the  employment  of  such  language  as  could  not  fail  to 
strike  the  southern  heart,  was  well  calculated  to  rouse  the  jeal- 
ousy and  excite  the  hostility  of  the  south.  Mr.  Berrien,  of 
Georgia,  not  satisfied  with  so  narrow  a  field  as  the  slave-hold- 
ing states,  or  unwilling  to  make  an  appeal  so  clearly  sectiona) 
in  its  character,  proposed  as  a  substitute  an  address  "  to  the 
people  of  the  United  States,"  which,  nevertheless,  had  the  same 
object  in  view,  the  raising  of  a  storm  against  the  admission  of 
free  states  out  of  the  territory  "  earned  by  the  blood  and  treas 
ure  of  the  south."  Southern  blood  and  treasure  had  certainly 
been  very  freely  spent,  and  spent  with  a  design,  which  the 
sovereign  people  of  California,  a  large  portion  of  whom  were 
southerners  by  birth,  had  ventured  unanimously  to  disappoint ; 
and  this  disappointment,  in  addition  to  the  measures  already 
mentioned,  led  the  southern  members  of  congress  to  another 
step,  which  was  still  less  in  unison  with  the  character  of  good 
patriots.  They  called  a  convention,  to  be  held  in  Nashville, 
whose  object  was,  according  to  the  general  understanding  at 
the  time,  to  concert  measures  for  the  formation  of  a  southern 
confederacy,  and,  of  course,  for  a  dissolution  of  the  Uniou 


THE    UNION    THREATENED.  405 

The  address  proposed  by  Mr.  Calhoun  was  adopted,  in  prefer 
ence  to  the  broader  and  perhaps  more  catholic  one  offered  by 
Mr.  Berrien ;  and  it  received  the  signatures  of  no  less  than 
forty-eight  members  of  congress,  all  but  two  of  whom  were 
members  of  the  democratic  party. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  here  were  threatening  and  danger 
enough  to  the  peace  and  stability  of  the  Union  ;  and  Mr.  Ev- 
erett has  alleged  this  condition  of  affairs  as  a  prominent  reason 
which  operated  on  the  mind  of  Mr.  Webster  in  reconciling 
him  to  the  nomination  and  election  of  General  Taylor.  The 
general  was  a  southerner  by  birth,  but  opposed  to  the  doc- 
trines of  the  conventionists ;  and  it  may  have  been  presumed 
by  Mr.  Webster,  as  it  certainly  was  by  many  who  otherwise 
would  have  been  irresistible  in  their  demands  for  the  nomina- 
tion of  a  civilian,  perhaps  of  Mr.  Webster  himself,  that  no 
northern  man  could  be  able  to  inspire  sufficient  confidence 
among  southern  unionists  to  hold  them  against  the  pressure 
of  opinion  which  was  rapidly  taking  possession  of  the  south. 
Amidst  the  general  gloom  of  the  times,  which  began  to  settle 
upon  all  sober  and  reflecting  minds,  there  was  one  bright  spot. 
California  had  framed  her  own  constitution,  and  put  to  rest  the 
question  of  slavery,  so  far  as  her  territory  was  concerned,  for- 
ever. So  much,  then,  was  fixed.  Upon  looking  a  little  more 
closely,  another  bright  spot  appeared.  New  Mexico,  the  other 
province  about  which  the  controversy  had  been  raging,  as  it 
began  now  more  clearly  to  appear,  was  a  region  entirely  un- 
suited  by  its  soil,  and  by  the  face  of  the  country,  for  the  profit- 
able or  even  possible  employment  of  slave  labor.  That  prov 
ince  had  been  made  free,  perpetually  and  eternally,  in  spite  of  all 
legislation,  by  the  hand  of  the  Creator.  To  secure  the  interests 
of  freedom,  therefore,  there  was  no  need  of  irritating  the  south 
by  the  application  to  either  province  of  the  anti-slavery  pro 
viso ;  and  in  consequence  of  this  fact,  which  every  northern 
man  of  prominence  began  to  see  very  clearly,  it  shortly  b<» 


406  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER- PIECES. 

came  possible,  during  the  early  part  of  the  winter  session  of 
1849-50,  in  a  friendly  conference  of  several  of  the  leading  and 
ablest  members  of  both  houses,  to  think  of  a  reconciliation. 
Several  such  conferences  were  held ;  and  on  the  25th  of  Janu- 
ary, 1850,  Mr.  Clay,  who  was  the  representative  of  this  select 
body,  submitted  a  series  of  resolutions  to  the  senate,  on  the 
subject  of  slavery,  as  it  stood  connected  with  our  recent  terri- 
torial acquisitions.  The  fate  of  these  resolutions  is  well  known. 
After  a  protracted  debate,  which  engrossed  the  senate  from 
January  to  March,  the  resolutions  were  found  to  be  impracti- 
cable. In  substance,  however,  individually  or  collectively,  they 
still  continued  to  be  discussed  ;  but  nothing  as  yet  had  fallen 
from  the  lips  of  Mr.  Webster.  Privately,  he  had  been  exert- 
ing his  immense  personal  influence,  wherever  he  could  make 
it  felt,  to  promote  the  peace  and  harmony  of  the  country  ;  but 
for  weeks,  while  the  debate  was  raging,  the  members  of  con- 
gress, and  the  whole  country,  were  anxiously  looking  to  see 
him  rise  in  the  breach,  not  to  part  the  combatants,  but  to  hold 
them  together.  No  one  acquainted  with  his  former  course  as 
a  statesman  could  have  expected  that  he,  who,  through  his 
whole  career,  had  made  the  constitution  and  the  Union  the  great 
topic  of  his  life,  the  fundamental  maxim  of  his  entire  system 
ot  political  opinions,  would  rise  to  counsel  a  separation.  When- 
ever he  should  come  forth,  it  was  morally  certain,  in  the  mind 
of  every  sagacious  man,  that  he  would  stand  up  as  the  advo- 
cate of  some  peace  measure,  of  some  adjustment  of  the  diffi- 
culty, that  the  constitution  and  the  Union  might  be  prolonged. 
He  had  always  spoken  of  the  constitution  itself  as  a  compro- 
mise. He  had  frequently  declared,  that  the  union  of  the  states, 
on  the  basis  of  our  present  constitution,  if  not  grounded  on  the 
best  terms  possible  to  be  conceived,  which  he  never  pretended 
to  maintain,  was  based  on  the  best  foundation  on  which  Un- 
people of  all  sections  of  the  republic,  east  and  west,  north  and 
south,  ever  were  or  ever  would  be  willing  to  stand  together. 


BASIS    OF    THE    UNION.  401 

No  union  at  all  had  been  possible, at  the  first,  but  such  as  all  parts 
of  the  country  had  been  willing  to  enter  into  and  maintain;  and  it 
was  equally  impossible,  he  clearly  saw,  to  keep  up  the  union 
which  had  been  formed,  except  on  terms  equally  capable  of 
giving  satisfaction,  not  to  any  one  section,  but  to  all  sections 
ofahe  country.  If,  in  the  beginning,  it  had  been  right,  for  the 
sake  of  a  confederacy,  to  make  certain  mutual  concessions  of 
the  various  latitudes  and  longitudes  of  the  country  to  the  other 
latitudes  and  longitudes,  it  remained  right,  and  would  remain 
right,  through  every  period  of  our  history.  If,  in  particular,  it 
had  been  right  for  the  north  to  make  certain  concessions  to  the 
south,  in  respect  to  the  existence  and  protection  of  slavery  in 
the  southern  states,  it  certainly  continued  to  be  right,  in  fur- 
therance of  the  same  great  object,  for  the  sake  of  preserving 
what  in  the  same  way  had  been  created,  to  maintain  and  con- 
tinue these  concessions.  If  such  concessions  were  wrong  now, 
they  always  had  been  wrong,  and  the  union  of  the  states  was 
wrong,  because  founded  on  immoral  or  unwarrantable  conces- 
sions ;  and  if  the  confederacy  had  been  thus  always  wrong, 
from  its  very  inception  and  foundation,  everything  attempted 
or  achieved  by  it,  our  whole  fabric  of  government,  all  our  laws, 
all  our  institutions,  and  the  means  employed  to  create  and  for- 
tify and  defend  them,  from  the  war  of  the  revolution  to  the 
present  moment,  had  been  but  parts  and  portions  of  the  wrong. 
If  the  union  of  the  states  were  thus  only  a  grand  and  whole- 
sale giving  up  of  right  to  wrong,  of  truth  to  error,  of  righte- 
ousness to  sin,  then  the  doctrine  to  be  maintained,  in  congress 
and  out  of  congress,  in  the  pulpit,  by  the  press,  by  the  living 
voice,  by  every  agency  under  heaven,  would  be  immediate, 
instantaneous,  uncompromising  dissolution.  Such  reasoning 
would  make  resistance  to  law  a  virtue,  rebellion  a  religious 
duty,  and  transform  the  nullifiers  and  disunionists  of  every  sec- 
tion of  the  country,  who  have  thus  far  drawn  down  upon  their 
heads  the  condemnation  of  the  wise  and  good  of  every  period 


408  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

of  our  history,  into  patriots,  into  philanthropists,  into  apostles 
of  truth  and  righteousness. 

Such  reasoning,  however,  could  not  stand  in  the  mind  of 
such  a  man  as  Webster.  He  had  always  been  the  eulogist 
and  defender  of  the  constitution  and  the  Union.  He  had  al- 
ways believed  that  the  Union  was  Ihe  only  means  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  country,  a  free  country,  a  country  of  free  and  re- 
publican institutions ;  that,  though  the  end  could  never  justify 
the  means,  the  means  themselves  had  been  moral  and  justifia- 
ble in  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  and  under  the  pledges  of 
the  occasion ;  and  that,  even  if  the  north  had  made  a  poor  con- 
tract, or,  as  he  used  sometimes  to  call  it,  "  a  losing  bargain,'' 
it  was  still  a  bargain,  a  contract,  a  covenant,  which  must  now 
stand  in  spite  of  all  sophistry,  in  spite  of  all  fanaticism. 

Such,  without  any  hesitation,  were  known  to  have  been  the 
life-long  opinions  of  Mr.  Webster ;  and  no  one  now  expected 
to  see  him  change  his  policy,  and  advocate  new  doctrines. 
Every  American  was  certain  that  he  would  not  let  the  occasion 
pass  without  putting  forth  an  effort  worthy  of  his  power  of 
mind,  and  of 'his  exalted  place  in  the  confidence  and  affections 
of  the  people,  for  the  peace  and  preservation  of  the  republic. 
Every  citizen  was  expecting  to  see  him  come  forward  with 
some  plan  of  arrangement,  or  to  advocate  some  mode  of  ad- 
justment, by  whomsoever  proposed,  which  should  be  most 
likely,  in  his  mind,  to  settle  the  controversy  of  the  sections,  to 
calm  the  excitement  of  the  combatants,  and  to  insure  the  integ- 
rity and  harmony  of  the  country.  Every  individual  might 
have  foreseen,  too,  and  many  did  foresee,  that  he  would  ad- 
vance nothing  new,  that  he  would  advocate  no  untried  schemes, 
but  plant  himself  upon  the  constitution  as  it  was,  and  as  it  ever 
had  been  ;  and,  in  all  these  expectations,  it  is  now  well  known, 
from  the  course  he  did  pursue,  the  people,  the  country,  the 
world  suffered  nothing  of  disappointment. 

On  Wednesday,  the  6th  of  March,  Mr.  Walker,  of  Wiscon 


MR.  WALKER  S    EULOGT.  409 

sin,  commenced  a  speech  on  slavery  in  connection  with  the  ter 
ritorial  question ;  but  he  was  so  frequently  interrupted  that  he 
had  not  concluded  his  remarks  when  he  had  reached  the  houi 
of  adjournment.  During  that  day,  while  Mr.  Walker  was 
speaking,  it  somehow  was  rumored  in  the  senate,  and  in  the 
city,  that  a  speech  would  be  made  the  next  morning  by  Mr 
Webster:  and  when  the  morning  arrived,  the  senate-chambei 
was  one  dense  mass  of  citizens  and  strangers,  below  and  above, 
leaving  scarcely  a  possibility  for  some  of  the  members  themselves 
to  find  their  seats,  or  even  eligible  standing-places.  The  wealth 
and  beauty  of  the  town  were  there.  Almost  the  entire  body 
of  foreign  ministers  were  there.  Distinguished  persons,  male 
and  female,  from  ail  parts  of  the  country,  and  from  other  coun- 
tries, had  collected  tnere  the  moment  it  was  understood  that 
there  was  a  probability  of  hearing  Mr.  Webster.  Since  the 
day  of  his  reply  to  Hayne,  he  had  not  seen  there  so  august  an 
audience :  arid  yet,  up  to  the  moment  of  his  entering  the  cham 
ber,  no  announcement  nad  been  made,  publicly  or  privately,  of 
his  intentions.  Nov  is  it  now  entirely  certain  that  he  had  de- 
finitely fixed  upon  tnat  day  to  speak  ;  but,  however  that  may 
be,  he  had  scarcely  crowded  his  way  through  the  dense  mass 
and  taken  his  seat,  belore  he  was  laid  under  a  sort  of  obligation 
to  speak,  whatever  had  been  nis  intentions  before  entering  the 
house. 

Precisely  at  twelve  o  clock,  the  president  of  the  senate,  Mr. 
Fillmore,  announced  tne  special  order  of  the  day,  remarking 
tliat  Mr.  Walker,  of  Wisconsin,  had  the  floor ;  and  immedi- 
ately that  gentleman  arose  in  his  place  and  replied  to  the  chaii 
hi  a  strain  that  must  nave  taken  the  audience,  and  especially 
Mr.  Webster,  by  surprise :  u  Mr.  President,"  said  the  senator, 
"  this  vast  audience  has  not  come  together  to  hear  me ;  and 
there  is  but  one  man,  in  my  opinion,  who  can  assemble  such 
an  audience.  They  expect  to  hear  him  ;  and  I  feel  it  to  be  my 
duty,  therefore,  as  it  is  my  pleasure,  to  give  the  floor  to  the 


410  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

senator  from  Massachusetts."  Though  surprised  by  this  unex- 
pected eulogy,  Mr.  Webster  was  not  embarrassed.  Rising 
immediately,  but  with  that  slow  and  deliberate  movement  so 
peculiar  to  him,  he  returned  his  warmest  acknowledgments  to 
Mr.  Walker  for  this  unusual  mark  of  courtesy,  in  yielding  the 
floor  before  his  own  speech  was  finished,  and  to  Mr.  Seward, 
who,  after  Mr.  Walker,  would  have  had,  by  the  law  of  custom, 
tiie  next  privilege  of  speaking,  and  then  entered  directly  upon 
that  great  effort,  which,  for  censure  or  for  praise,  will  be  re- 
membered as  long  as  anything  that  was  ever  uttered  from 
his  lips. 

This  speech  of  the  7th  of  March,  1850,  opens  with  the  gen- 
eral declaration,  very  beautifully  drawn  out,  that  the  speaker 
proposes  to  lay  aside  all  sectional  prejudices,  and  take  his  posi- 
tion, for  that  time  more  emphatically  than  ever,  on  the  broad 
platform  of  the  general  constitution.  It  then  proceeds  to  give 
a,  history  of  the  manner,  which  he  condemns,  by  which  the  ter- 
ritories recently  acquired,  and  about  which  the  great  dispute 
•was  now  in  progress,  came  under  the  jurisdiction  of  this  gov- 
ernment. The  remarkable  fact  is  next  stated,  with  all  its  his- 
torical circumstances,  of  the  erection  of  a  state  by  the  people  of 
California,  without  the  knowledge  or  consent  of  congress,  and 
of  the  adoption  by  them  of  a  constitution  containing  the  anti- 
slavery  restriction.  The  statement  of  this  prohibition  natu- 
rally leads  him  to  a  discussion  of  the  existence  of  slavery,  as  a 
fik'.t  in  history,  from  the  earliest  periods  in  the  annals  of  the 
oriental  nations,  through  the  Jewish,  Grecian,  and  Roman 
epochs,  down  to  its  establishment,  by  the  improper  indulgence 
;-t  the  mother  country  to  her  great  navigators,  in  the  colonies 
which  now  constitute  the  older  states  of  the  American  confed- 
eration. The  existence  of  such  a  fact,  not  only  as  a  matter  of 
oast  history,  but  as  a  thing  existing  in  our  own  day  and  on  our 
own  soil,  the  orator  next  states,  had  caused  a  division  of  public 
opinion  and  public  sentiment,  one  part  of  our  citizens  posi 


BPEECH    OF    THE    7TH    OF    MARCH.  411 

lively  condemning,  another  part  as  positively  upholding,  the 
recognition  of  slavery  in  this  republic ;  but  it  is  plain  enough, 
in  the  very  terms  employed  in  giving  a  statement  of  this  dHTer 
ence,  that  the  speaker,  in  his  own  views  and  feelings,  is  entirely 
on  the  side  of  liberty.  He  is  willing,  however,  as  a  candid 
man,  to  give  those  advocating  the  rectitude  of  slavery  as  much 
credit  for  honesty  of  opinion,  as  he  claims  for  himself  in  giving 
it  his  disapproval,  which  candor,  he  thinks,  has  not  been  suffi- 
ciently exercised  by  his  northern  fellow-citizens,  any  more  than 
it  has  been  exercised  by  his  southern  brethren  in  their  unquali- 
fied jealousy  and  condemnation  of  the  north.  Religious  bodies, 
too,  he  thinks,  of  which  he  presents  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  as  an  eminent  example,  in  her  needless  and  unfortunate 
separation,  had  often  been  too  violent,  too  positive,  too  abso- 
lute and  exclusive  in  their  discussions  in  relation  to  the  subject. 
The  sentiments  of  the  north  and  the  south,  now  so  extravagant 
for  and  against  the  institution,  had  nearly  changed  sides  since 
the  adoption  of  the  constitution,  the  northern  states  at  the  first 
being  rather  cool,  if  not  comparatively  indifferent,  while  the 
southern  states,  both  in  congress  at  New  York  and  in  the  con- 
stitutional convention  at  Philadelphia,  which  were  sitting  at  the 
same  time  when  the  constitution  was  adopted,  unanimously  and 
even  violently  regretted  and  condemned  it.  The  ordinance  of 
1787,  which  excluded  slavery  forever  from  every  foot  of  ter- 
ritory then  belonging  to  the  United  States,  received  the  vote 
>f  every  southern  member  of  congress,  while  Mr.  Madison, 
sustained  by  all  his  southern  colleagues  in  the  convention,  would 
nut  consent,  though  the  northern  members  had  raised  no  dis- 
sent, that  the  word  slave  or  slavery  should  appear  in  the  in- 
strument they  were  then  constructing.  The  declaration  of  this 
same  congress,  that  the  African  slave-trade  should  be  held  aa 
piracy,  the  senator  next  shows  to  have  been  a  southern  meas- 
ure ;  and  when  some  northern  gentleman  proposed  twenty 
years  from  that  date  as  the  period  after  which  this  declarator 
VOL.  i.  R 


412  WEBSTER    AND    JUS    MASTER-P1KCK8. 

should  taKe  effect,  the  leading  southern  members  opposed  tht 
suggestion  as  giving  too  long  a  license  to  the  great  political  and 
public  evil.  It  was  in  view  of  this  evident  state  of  feeling  at 
the  south,  coming  out  thus  authoritatively  in  every  way  in 
which  it  could  appear,  that  induced  the  northern  members  of 
the  convention,  according  to  the  next  position  of  the  speech,  to 
agree  to  the  recognition  of  a  system  of  moral  and  political 
wrong,  which,  as  all  then  believed,  was  soon  to  be  abolished  by 
the  consent  and  cooperation,  free  and  spontaneous,  of  the  south 
itself.  In  this  expectation,  however,  the  north  and  the  whole 
country  had  suffered  a  remarkable  disappointment.  It  was 
discovered  by  the  south,  soon  after  the  constitution  went  into 
operation,  that  cotton  was  to  be  the  great  staple,  the  great  re- 
liance for  prosperity  and  wealth,  of  the  southern  states,  and 
that  the  cultivation  of  this  product  could  not  be  carried  on,  at 
least  profitably,  without  slaves.  Southern  sentiment  was  at  once 
revolutionized;  and,  at  the  same  time, or  about  the  same  time,  the 
feeling  of  hostility  to  the  enormity  of  slavery,  as  an  institution 
now  to  be  perpetuated  in  a  republic  based  on  the  glorious  revo- 
lutionary declaration  of  the  absolute  and  perfect  natural  equal 
ity  of  all  men,  began  to  look  toward  the  civil  liberty  of  every 
human  being  breathing  the  air  of  a  professedly  free  country. 
Still,  the  south  having  had  the  lead  of  the  national  politics  for 
three-fourths  of  all  the  time  since  the  adoption  of  the  constitu- 
tion, the  policy  of  the  government  began  at  once  to  be  a  slave- 
holding  policy,  large  acquisitions  of  slave  territory  were  succes- 
sively added  to  our  domain,  new  slave  states  were  rapidly 
brought  into  the  confederacy,  and  the  establishment  of  slave 
labor  at  length  seemed  likely,  in  process  of  time,  to  make  free 
labor  an  exception  and  a  reproach  throughout  the  country. 
Alarmed  at  the  unexpected  progress  of  the  evil,  the  north  had 
been  daily  approaching  the  resolution  not  to  allow  it  to  advance 
any  further  ;  it  had  begun  to  remind  the  south  of  the  general 
understanding,  on  the  subject  of  slavery,  when  the  constitution 


SPEECH  CONTINUED.  413 

was  formed  and  the  northern  states  had"  submitted  to  a  recogni- 
tion of  its  existence,  which  they  had  supposed  would  be  only  tem- 
porary, in  the  southern  states  of  the  republic.  In  this  way,  as 
Mr.  Webster  next  shows,  the  territorial  strife  began.  The  south 
at  once  raised  the  banner  of  acquisition,  because  whatever  acqui- 
sitions should  be  made,  since  the  republic  is  bounded  on  the  north 
by  the  territory  of  a  power  able  to  defend  it,  must  come  to  us  on 
our  southern  border.  For  this  purpose,  the  revolution  of  Texas 
had  been  encouraged,  and  the  annexation  of  that  republic  had 
been  effected,  by  the  leading  instrumentality  of  the  south.  For 
the  same  purpose,  a  war  with  Mexico,  a  republic  patterned 
after  our  own,  but  weak  and  needy  of  our  encouragement  and 
support,  had  been  injuriously  and  even  clandestinely  brought 
upon  us,  and  in  this  way  immense  tracts  of  the  earth  had  been 
added  to  our  possessions  on  the  south  and  west.  California, 
however,  had  disappointed  the  plans  of  those  who  had  been 
foremost  in  grasping  after  it,  leaving  only  New  Mexico  and 
Utah,  regions  incapable  of  the  curse  of  slavery,  as  subjects  of 
congressional  contention.  The  house  of  representatives,  hap- 
pening to  have  a  free-soil  majority,  threatened  to  fix  the  anti- 
slavery  restriction,  nevertheless,  on  those  provinces,  careless  of 
the  irritable  condition  of  the  south,  while  the  senate  would  not 
pass  the  anti-slavery  bills  of  the  house,  as  careless  of  the  deter- 
mination of  the  north.  Having  thus  shown  how,  as  here  de- 
scribed, the  crimination  and  recrimination  of  north  and  south 
nad  been  revived,  the  speaker,  after  explaining  his  own  steady 
opposition  to  all  the  recent  measures  by  which  this  state  of 
things  had  been  produced,  goes  into  a  careful  examination  of 
the  prominent  complaints  of  each  section  against  the  other, 
in  which  he  finds  only  one  valid  and  prominent  cause,  on 
either  side,  for  complaint.  The  south  had  complained,  that 
the  north  had  falsified  its  constitutional  pledges,  by  setting  up 
an  unexpected  and  unlawful  opposition  to  the  slavery  of  the 
south ;  and  Mr.  Webster,  while  denying  the  charge  in  general, 


414  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

admits  that  the  northern  states  had  been  too  negligent  in  their 
engagement  to  return  slaves  escaping  from  their  masters  and 
taking  shelter  at  the  north.  He  maintained,  on  the  other  side, 
that  the  south,  either  wittingly  or  unwittingly,  had  disappointed 
if  not  deceived  the  north,  in  obtaining  a  constitutional  recog- 
nition of  slavery  in  the  southern  states,  with  an  engagement 
never  to  meddle  with  its  existence  there,  by  exhibiting  a  hos- 
tility to  it,  real  or  unreal,  which  had  given  place  to  a  most  un- 
expected, remarkable  and  unanimous  determination  to  support 
it  where  it  is,  and  where  it  was,  and  to  extend  it  as  far  as  pos- 
sible by  grasping  at  territory  adjacent  to  those  states.  Other 
complaints  are  mentioned  and  discussed,  but  these  two,  both 
on  the  same  subject  and  balancing  each  other,  are  regarded  as 
the  ones  calling  especially  for  moderation,  and  charity,  and 
good  faith.  Whether  sincere  or  insincere,  though  no  insincerity 
is  charged,  the  declarations  of  hostility  to  slavery  by  the.  south, 
at  the  time  and  in  the  act  of  framing  and  adopting  the  federal 
constitution,  and  in  the  passage  of  the  great  anti-slavery  ordi 
nance  of  1787,  ought  now,  if  the  south  expected  a  similar  fidel 
ity  to  former  principles  by  the  north,  whatever  change  of  inter- 
est may  have  happened  in  the  slave-holding  states,  to  be  hon- 
estly and  strictly  carried  out.  In  like  manner,  if  the  north  had 
agreed  to  return  slaves  escaping  from  their  masters,  however 
their  views  and  feelings  may  have  altered  from  that  day,  they 
must  not  now  parley,  nor  tamper  with  their  plighted  word. 
Neither  party  must  expect  the  other  to  be  faithful,  unless  it  is 
willing  and  ready  to  be  itself  faithful.  Both  must  consent  to 
abide  by  the  original  compact  which  they  had  made.  By  this 
compact,  by  this  mutual  concession,  the  Union  had  been  formed 
at  first.  By  the  same  compact,  by  the  same  concessions,  and 
by  these  only,  could  the  Union  be  maintained.  For  one,  as  a 
northern  man,  he  was  willing  to  abide  by  that  part  of  the  com- 
T>act  which  bound  him,  and  all  his  northern  fellow-citizens,  to 
return  the  fugitives ;  and  he  was  thus  willing,  not  only  because 


TEMPORARY  LOSS  OF  REPUTATION.          415 

the  people  in  framing  the  constitution  had  laid  him  under  an 
obligation  to  be  willing,  but  because  he  expected  the  south  to 
be  equally  ready  to  comply  with  its  own  stipulation,  and  re- 
linquish its  claim  of  extending  slavery  beyond  its  present  lim- 
its, and  particularly  of  sending  it  into  the  unsettled  territories 
of  the  United  States. 

Such,  in  substance,  is  the  speech  of  the  7th  of  March,  1850  ; 
and,  if  it  is  not  a  sound  constitutional  argument,  if  it  is  not 
conciliatory,  patriotic,  wise  and  good,  then  it  is  difficult  to  di- 
vine what  may  have  become  of  the  original  meaning  of  these 
words.  It  was  an  argument  to  both  parties,  for  the  sake  of 
the  continuance  of  the  republic,  to  keep  good  faith  and  do  ex- 
actly as  they  had  agreed.  It  was  no  surrender  of  the  south 
*/o  the  north,  nor  of  the  north  to  the  south.  It  was  a  demand, 
that  both  south  and  north,  for  the  sake  of  peace,  for  the  sake  of 
liberty,  for  the  sake  of  free  institutions,  and  a  possible  destiny 
common  to  them  both,  should  maintain  the  Union  in  pursuance 
of  the  same  measures  by  which  it  had  been  originally  produced. 

It  cannot  be  denied,  however,  tliat,  for  this  speech,  Mr. 
Webster  came  near  losing  his  position  at  the  north.  The  north, 
it  need  not  be  disguised,  forgetting  the  many  illustrious  services 
of  this  great  man  for  a  space  of  more  than  forty  years,  by 
which  he  had  laid  the  whole  country  under  obligations  of  grat- 
itude which  a  score  of  generations  will  not  be  able  to  repay, 
and  by  which  he  had  spread  the  honor  and  fame  and  glory  of 
his  native  land  over  the  face  of  the  civilized  and  reading  world, 
seemed  at  one  time,  to  be  on  the  point  of  committing  the  folly, 
to  call  it  by  no  harsher  name,  of  canceling  a  life-time  of  noble 
and  patriotic  deeds,  by  what,  at  the  worst,  could  be  regarded 
as  only  one  mistake.  Some,  it  is  true,  accused  him  of  having 
given  this  healing  counsel,  of  taking  his  position  as  an  Ameri- 
can, on  the  broad  platform  of  the  constitution,  not  because,  as 
was  undeniably  the  fact,  he  had  never  stood  a  moment  on  any 
narrower  foundation,  but  because  he  was  aspiring  to  the  highest 


416  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

office  under  the  constitution.  The  shallowness  is  the  only  ele- 
ment that  exceeds  the  uncharitableness  of  this  change.  Did 
not  Mr.  Webster  know  that,  in  taking  even  his  old  position  at 
this  particular  time,  he  was  running  the  risk  of  losing  the 
whole  north,  while  the  south  would  never  support  the  man 
who,  in  that  very  congress,  had  declared  that  he  never  could 
consent  to  the  extension  of  American  slavery  one  foot  beyond 
the  limits  it  then  occupied  ?  Was  that  great  man,  whose 
sagacity  and  breadth  of  vision  had  been  the  boast  and  admi 
ration  of  his  countrymen  for  nearly  half  a  century,  all  at  once 
so  blind  as  not  to  see,  a  moment  before  the  speech,  what 
every  scribbler,  and  paragraphist,  and  country  newspaper  critic 
saw,  as  with  a  sunbeam,  the  moment  after  it  1  There  is  no 
room  for  speculation  upon  this  subject.  Mr.  Webster  is  for- 
tunate in  having  so  expressed  himself  before  the  delivery  of 
the  speech,  as  to  leave  no  doubt  upon  it.  Without  trying  to 
seek  supporters  at  the  north,  and  conscious  of  the  hazard  he 
was  about  to  make,  he  stated  to  a  friend,  some  time  before  the 
7th  of  March,  "  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  embark 
alone  on  what  he  was  aware  would  prove  a  stormy  sea,  be- 
cause, in  that  case,  should  final  disaster  ensue,  there  would  be 
but  one  life  lost."  He  saw  his  danger  certainly  ;  but  he  saw 
what  seemed  to  be  his  duty,  also ;  and  that  duty  he  resolved 
to  do,  for  the  sake  of  his  cherished  country,  without  respect  to 
personal  considerations. 

This  one  speech,  however,  has  received  more  attention,  com- 
paratively, than  ought  to  have  been  given  to  it  by  those  of  his 
opponents,  who  wish  to  be  looked  upon  as  candid.  There  are 
several  other  speeches,  made  during  the  continuance  of  this 
great  debate,  which  seem  to  have  been  uncharitably  or  care- 
lessly overlooked.  The  accusation  against  Mr.  Webster  was 
that,  in  a  crisis  of  liberty,  he  yielded  too  much  to  slavery. 
Passing  off  from  the  speech  of  the  7th  of  March,  in  which  it 
will  be  difficult  for  posterity,  it  is  imagined,  to  find  any  un 


OTHER    SPEECHES    OVERLOOKED.  417 

constitutional  concessions  to  the  slave  interest,  it  may  be  asked 
whether,  in  his  other  addresses  at  this  time,  he  did  nothing  for 
the  cause  of  freedom.  Was  it  nothing,  that  he  opposed  the 
plausible  claim  set  up  by  Texas,  to  the  best  portions  of  New 
Mexico,  because  Texas  wished  to  convert  them  to  the  purposes 
of  slavery  1  Was  it  nothing  that  he  advocated,  more  ably  and 
feelingly  than  any  other  senator,  the  immediate  reception  of 
California,  when  the  whole  south  was  arrayed  against  it  on 
account  of  her  anti-slavery  constitution  ?  Was  it  nothing  that 
he  rebuked  the  whole  south,  openly  and  plainly,  in  the  midst 
of  his  supposed  projects  of  ambition,  for  the  treatment  it  was 
accustomed  to  extend  to  free  colored  persons  going  to  the 
southern  states  on  lawful  business1?  Was  it  nothing  that  he 
repeated  his  determination,  over  and  over,  never  to  consent  to 
the  extension  of  slavery  on  this  continent,  and  repeated  it  so 
often  that  the  southern  members  accused  him,  as  the  first  step 
to  his  new  scheme  of  ambition,  of  having  made  this  his  hobby  1 
The  truth  is,  however,  and  it  is  more  apparent  as  one 
reads  more  and  more  of  Mr.  Webster's  speeches  deliv- 
ered at  this  time,  that  he  had  no  hobby,  no  scheme,  no  am- 
bition, but  the  single  and  unchanged  and  noble  one  of  being 
the  champion  and  defender  of  the  Union  and  the  constitution, 
and  of  the  constitution  for  the  sake  of  maintaining  and  perpet- 
uating the  integrity  of  the  Union.  When  all  party  feeling 
shall  have  subsided,  and  the  excitement  of  that  day  shall  be 
forgotten,  the  speech  of  the  7th  of  March,  and  his  various 
speeches  of  that  congress,  on  the  boundaries  of  Texas,  on  the 
public  lands  and  boundaries  of  California,  and  on  the  compro- 
mise measures  generally,  will  be  re-read  and  revised  by  the 
cooler  judgment  of  posterity,  when  they  will  be  thought  to 
constitute  his  best  title,  the  circumstances  being  all  considered, 
to  the  respect  and  affection  of  his  countrymen.  His  vote  for 
the  fugitive  slave  bill  will  not  then  be  charged  as  a  proof  of 
political  ambition.  It  will  be  believed  that,  though  he  finally 


418  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTEK-PIBCES. 

lent  that  vote  to  a  mode  of  reclaiming  the  runaway  sla?e, 
which  gives  too  little  succor  to  the  down-trodden  fugitive,  and 
too  much  to  the  greedy,  and  often  unscrupulous  and  imperious 
master,  he  did  so  for  no  purposes  of  his  own,  but  for  the  best 
good,  as  he  understood  it,  of  -his  country.  It  will  be  remem 
bered,  too.  that  the  bill  which  became  a  law  was  not  his  own 
bill ;  but  that  he  offered  a  bill,  in  which  there  was  distinct  pro- 
vision that,  on  being  claimed  as  a  fugitive,  the  man  of  color 
might  swear  himself  free,  against  the  oath  even  of  his  claim- 
ant, and  that  this  oath  of  his  should  entitle  him  to  the  right  of 
having  the  claim  tried  by  jury.  It  will  be  remembered  that 
he  gave  up  his  own  views  only  when  he  saw  the  impossibility  of 
settling  the  difficulties,  of  preserving  the  harmony  of  the  states, 
and,  as  he  thought,  of  saving  the  republic,  on  that  basis. 

Then,  in  that  period  of  calm  reading  and  calm  reflection,  when 
these  things  are  all  remembered,  and  are  all  candidly  considered, 
the  posterity  that  shall  then  occupy  his  adopted  state,  his  cherished 
Massachusetts,  whose  name  he  has  made  so  illustrious,  will  re- 
gret that  the  still  surviving  temple  of  their  freedom,  the  Cra- 
dle of  Liberty,  where  his  voice  so  often  rang  with  an  order  of 
eloquence  to  which  they  may  never  have  the  happiness  to  listen, 
and  which  gave  to  that  temple,  over  the  continent  and  over  the 
world,  the  greater  part  of  its  celebrity,  was,  at  this  ungrateful 
period,  barred  and  shut  against  him.  Then,  if  history  has  any 
power  to  mount  the  watch-tower  of  philosophy,  and  foresee 
coming  events,  and  unless  all  present  signs  are  sinister,  the  time 
will  come,  the  angry  passions  of  the  past  having  been  all  hushed 
in  death,  and  only  what  is  true  having  been  presei  ved  in  his- 
tory, when  there  will  be  no  name  more  honored,  even  for  the 
acts  now  condemned,  than  that  of  Daniel  Webster ;  and  when 
his  country  will  regret  that  some  of  the  last  days  of  one  of 
the  most  illustrious  of  her  sons  were  clouded  by  the  miscon- 
ception or  ingratitude  of  those,  for  whose  sake,  and  for  the 
sake  of  whose  best  earthly  welfare,  he  staked  all  that  he  had 


l-OSIERITY    WILL    DO    HIM    JUSTICE.  414 

gained  in  the  past,  and  all  that  he  could  have  hoped  for  from 
the  future. 

Then,  too.  it  will  be  set  down  and  considered  as  a 
sufficient  and  concluding  fact,  that,  in  behalf  of  his  constituents 
and  of  the  whole  country,  he  made  this  great  sacrifice  of  his 
personal  feelings,  bound  to  it,  as  he  felt  himself,  by  the  pledges 
of  the  constitution,  because  he  regarded  the  measures  then  in 
debate,  and  then  about  to  be  enacted  into  laws,  as  the  final  and 
perpetual  settlement  of  the  slavery  agitation,  not,  indeed,  as  a 
moral  or  even  political  question  for  the  states,  as  states,  or  for 
citizens  as  citizens,  or  for  citizens  as  philanthropists  and  chris- 
tians,  but  as  a  topic  of  discussion  and  discord  in  congress ;  that 
in  this  responsible  step,  he  relied  implicitly  on  the  promises  of 
every  southern  member  of  both  houses,  and  of  the  leading 
members  of  the  democratic  party  of  the  north,  who  pledged 
their  faith  that  this  should  forever  stand  as  the  last  and  unal- 
terable adjustment  of  the  subject  of  slavery  as  a  matter  of  con- 
gressional interference,  debate  or  action ;  that,  according  to  his 
understanding,  the  arrangement  thus  entered  into, "fixed, pledged, 
fastened,  decided,"  to  use  his  own  strong  terms,  the  whole  ques- 
tion, leaving  not  "  a  single  foot  of  land,  the  character  of  which, 
in  regard  to  its  being  free  territory  or  slave  territory,  is  not 
fixed  by  some  law,  and  some  irrepealable  law,  beyond  the  power 
of  the  action  of  the  government ;  "  that  it  would  thereafter  for- 
ever be  impossible,  without  such  a  breach  of  fkith  as  neither 
north  nor  south  had  ever  committed,  or  would  ever  venture  to 
commit,  to  raise  in  congress  a  question  respecting  the  chani.-- 
ter,  in  this  respect,  of  a  single  inch  of  territory  belonging  to  the 
United  States,  every  concession  of  the  constitution  and  of  the 
laws  and  arrangements  under  it,  from  the  compromise  of  Mis- 
souri to  that  of  New  Mexico  and  California,  being  now  set 
down  and  acknowledged  to  be  as  unchangeable  as  the  coristitu 
tion  itself;  and  that  thus,  with  the  result  and  remunerative  ele- 
iiient  of  this  final  compromise  in  view,  on  which,  for  the  peace 
VOL  T.  h*  27 


420  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES, 

of  the  country,  he  staked  and  yielded  every  personal  interest 
and  consideration,  he  did  his  part  toward  the  harmony 
and  perpetuity  of  the  republic.  And  now,  if,  in  this  act  of  con- 
fidence, in  this  trust  in  pledged  honor  and  plighted  faith,  the 
country  has  been  disappointed,  at  a  time  when  his  powerful 
voice  could  not  be  raised,  as  it  certainly  would  have  been 
raised,  against  the  most  recent  and  the  most  ignominious  in- 
stance of  modern  perfidy,  posterity  certainly  will  award,  and 
the  present  generation  should  award,  not  the  dishonor  of  the 
breach,  but  the  glory  of  the  act  of  settlement,  to  the  political 
consistency,  the  unbending  integrity,  the  magnanimous  spirit, 
and  the  unbounded  influence  of  Daniel  Webster 


CHAPTER  XII. 

CLOSING  PERIOD  OF  HIS  LIFE. 

DURING  the  progress  of  the  great  debate,  and  almost  to  the 
very  last  of  it,  there  appeared  in  the  senate  chamber,  when 
ever  the  weather  would  permit,  a  member  of  that  body,  whom 
disease  was  gradually  and  silently  preying  upon  and  fitting  for 
his  final  resting-place  in  an  honored  grave.  That  member  was 
the  honorable  John  Caldwell  Calhoun,  the  long-tried  and  long- 
trusted  representative  of  South  Carolina,  and  the  able  and  elo- 
quent champion  of  the  entire  south.  On  the  4th  of  March, 
1850,  he  took  his  seat  among  his  brethren  of  the  senate,  hoping 
to  be  able  to  address  them,  probably  for  the  last  time,  on  the 
important  matters  then  under  consideration  ;  but  his  strength 
failing  him,  his  speech,  which  he  had  carefully  written  out,  was 
read  to  the  senate  by  his  friend,  Mr.  Mason,  senator  from  Vir- 
ginia. On  the  7th  of  March  following,  he  was  again  in  his  seat, 
but  evidently  more  wasted  and  weak  than  ever,  for  the  purpose 
of  listening  to  the  speech  of  the  senator  from  Massachusetts, 
whom  the  South  Carolina  senator  had  just  declared,  in  the  con- 
fidence of  private  friendship,  and  while  resting  upon  that  bed 
on  which  he  expected  soon  to  close  his  eyes,  to  be  as  honest 
and  honorable  a  statesman  as  he  had  ever  known  in  all  his  ex- 
perience and  observation  among  the  most  distinguished  citizens 
of  the  country.  It  was  on  that  day,  and  in  that  speech,  that 
Mr.  Webster  pronounced  that  brief  eulogy  on  his  illustrious 
antagonist,  which,  in  substance,  was  a  voluntary  tribute  to  Mr. 
Calhoun's  openness  and  integrity  of  character,  a  tribute  seen 
and  felt  at  the  time  to  be  characteristically  happy  in  a  speech 


422  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

of  compromise  and  conciliation.  On  the  31st  of  March,  Mr 
Calhoun  breathed  his  last,  at  his  own  lodgings  in  Washington, 
near  to  his  post  of  duty,  surrounded  by  his  friends  and  near 
relatives ;  and  on  the  next  day  his  decease  was  announced  in 
the  senate  by  his  colleague,  Mr.  Butler,  when,  among  other 
speakers,  Mr.  Webster  again  stood  up  to  bear  willing  and 
beautiful  testimony  to  the  high  merit  of  the  departed. 

The  place  left  vacant  by  this  lamented  death  was  supplied 
by  the  appointment  of  Franklin  H.  Elmore,  who,  for  several 
years,  had  been  a  member  of  the  house  of  representatives  ;  but 
on  the  29th  of  May,  in  less  than  two  months  from  the  day  of 
Mr.  Calhoun's  decease,  the  new  senator  was  struck  down  by 
the  hand  of  death,  and  Mr.  Webster  was  again  called  upon  to 
speak  to  the  senate  on  the  afflictive  dispensation.  Mr.  Web 
ster  had  known  Mr.  Elmore  from  the  time  of  his  coming  intc 
the  lower  house  ;  and,  during  his  tour  to  the  south,  he  had  been 
indebted  to  him  for  personal  attentions,  which  had  made  a  last 
ing  impression  on  his  heart.  He  now  repays  the  debt,  so  far 
as  words  can  do  it,  by  a  short  but  exceedingly  appropriate  ad- 
dress over  the  memory  of  his  friend. 

In  this  department  of  oratory,  in  fact,  Mr.  Webster  has 
never  had  his  equal  on  this  continent.  He  always  knew, 
not  only  exactly  what  to  say,  but  exactly  what  not  to  say. 
He  was  most  happy  in  seizing  hold  of  the  striking  intellectual 
traits,  and  the  most  characteristic  virtues,  of  those  whom  he 
was  thus  called  to  mourn.  His  quotations,  on  such  occasions, 
as  well  as  his  references  to  historical  personages  of  comparable 
traits  and  talents,  have  long  been  celebrated  in  this  country, 
and  in  other  countries.  It  was  remarkable,  too,  that,  while  his 
funeral  orations  always  gave  the  highest  satisfaction  to  those 
most  deeply  interested,  he  never  praised  too  much,  nor  in  any 
way  exceeded  the  severest  demands  and  proprieties  of  an  occa 
sion.  All  these  excellencies  of  speech  had  been  exemplified  in 
his  tributes  to  Joseph  Story  and  Jeremiah  Mason  ;  arid  they 


DEATH  OF    PRESIDENT    TAYLOR.  423 

were  now  again  exemplified  in  his  eulogies  of  the  two  senators 
from  South  Carolina. 

Soon,  however,  afflictive  as  these  deaths  had  been,  another 
death  occurred,  which,  from  the  exalted  position  as  well  as  the 
personal  merits  of  the  subject,  was  to  be  felt,  and  was  felt,  to 
the  extremities  of  the  republic.  On  the  9th  of  July,  1850,  at 
half-past  ten  o'clock,  Zachary  Taylor,  president  of  the  United 
States,  died  suddenly,  after  an  illness  of  only  a  few  days. 
Early  in  that  day,  while  Mr.  Butler  was  addressing  the  senate, 
Mr.  Webster,  by  leave  of  Mr.  Butler,  rose  and  announced  to 
the  senate  the  extreme  illness  of  the  president,  whereupon  the 
senate  immediately  adjourned  ;  and  on  the  morning  of  the  next 
day,  a  communication  addressed  by  Mr.  Fillmore  to  both 
houses  of  congress  was  read,  which  brought  to  the  senate  the 
first  official  intelligence  of  the  heavy  bereavement  of  the 
nation. 

The  first  duty  of  congress,  of  course,  was  to  attend  to  the 
swearing  in  of  Mr.  Fillmore  as  acting  president  of  the  United 
States  ;  and  accordingly,  immediately  after  the  reading  of  the 
communication  from  the  vice-president,  Mr.  Webster  rose  and 
read  to  the  senate  the  following  resolutions  :  "  Resolved,  That 
the  two  houses  will  assemble  this  day  in  the  hall  of  the  house 
of  representatives,  at  twelve  o'clock,  to  be  present  at  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  oath  prescribed  by  the  constitution  to  the 
late  vice-president  of  the  United  States,  to  enable  him  to  dis- 
charge the  powers  and  duties  of  the  office  of  president  of  the 
United  States,  devolved  on  him  by  the  death  of  Zachary  Tay- 
lor, late  president  of  the  United  States.  Resolved,  That  tli 
secretary  of  the  senate  present  the  above  resolution  to  the 
house  of  representatives  and  ask  its  concurrence  therein." 

This  necessary  dutv  having  been  thus  discharged,  Mr. 
Downs,  senator  from  Louisiana,  addressed  the  senate  in  a  very 
touching  manner,  respecting  the  mournful  event  of  the  day.  :n:>l 
concluded  by  offering  a  series  of  appropriate  resolutions  tlu 


424  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

second  of  which  constituted  Mr.  Webster,  Mr.  Cass,  and  Mr. 
King,  a  committee,  on  the  part  of  the  senate,  to  be  associated 
with  a  similar  committee  on  the  part  of  the  house,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  making  suitable  arrangements  for  the  funeral  and 
burial  of  the  departed  president,  whereupon  Mr.  Webster  im 
mediately  arose  in  his  place  and  delivered  a  eulogy,  which,  con- 
sidering what  he  had  felt  bound  to  say,  respecting  the  nomina- 
tion of  General  Taylor,  was  a  task  not  to  be  happily  performed 
by  any  person,  under  such  circumstances,  of  less  genius  and 
tact  than  Daniel  Webster.  It  is  almost  needless  to  say,  how- 
ever, that,  as  usual  under  all  circumstances,  the  orator  entered 
as  directly  upon  his  subject,  and  passed  as  easily  and  eloquently 
through  it,  as  if  there  were  no  difficulties  in  it.  Without  re- 
calling anything  he  had  said  before,  and  of  course  without  sup- 
porting his  former  statements,  he  found  enough  in  the  life  and 
character  of  the  able  commander,  the  good  citizen,  and  the 
honest  president  to  supply,  and  more  than  supply,  all  the  re- 
quirements of  the  occasion ;  and  there  are  passages  in  that 
brief  speech  worthy  to  be  remembered  as  giving  a  genuine 
likeness  of  him,  who,  till  this  day,  has  no  better  or  more  desi- 
rable memorial  :  "I  suppose,  sir,"  says  the  speaker,  "that  no 
case  ever  happened,  in  the  very  best  days  of  the  Roman  re- 
public, when  a  man  found  himself  clothed  with  the  highest  au- 
thority in  the  state,  under  circumstances  more  repelling  all 
suspicion  of  personal  application,  of  pursuing  any  crooked  paths 
in  politics,  or  of  having  been  actuated  by  sinister  views  and 
purposes,  than  In  the  case  of  the  worthy,  and  eminent,  and  good 
man  whose  death  we  now  deplore. 

"  His  service  through  life  was  mostly  on  the  frontier,  and 
always  a  hard  service,  often  in  combat  with  the  tribes  of  In- 
dians along  the  frontier  for  so  many  thousands  of  miles.  It 
has  been  justly  remarked,  by  one  of  the  most  eloquent  men 
whose  voice  was  ever  heard  in  these  houses,  that  it  is  not  in 
Indian  wars  that  heroes  are  celebrated,  but  that  it  is  there  that 


EULOGY  ON  GENERAL  TAYLOR.  425 

they  are  formed.  The  hard  service,  the  stern  discipline,  de- 
volving upon  all  those  who  have  a  great  extent  of  frontier  to 
defend,  often,  with  irregular  troops,  being  called  on  suddenly 
to  enter  into  contests  with  savages,  to  study  the  habits  of  sav- 
age life  and  savage  war,  in  order  to  foresee  and  overcome  their 
stratagems,  all  these  things  tend  to  make  hardy  military 
character. 

"  For  a  very  short  time,  sir,  I  had  a  connection  with  the  ex- 
ecutive government  of  this  country  ;  and  at  that  time  very  per- 
ilous and  embarrassing  circumstances  existed  between  the  Uni- 
ted States  and  the  Indians  on  the  borders,  and  war  was  actu- 
ally carried  on  between  the  United  States  and  the  Florida 
tribes.  I  very  well  remember  that  those  who  took  counsel 
together  on  that  occasion  officially,  and  who  were  desirous  of 
placing  the  military  command  in  the  safest  hands,  came  to  the 
conclusion,  that  there  was  no  man  in  the  service  more  fully 
uniting  the  qualities  of  military  ability  and  great  personal  pru- 
dence than  Zachary  Taylor ;  and  he  was  appointed  to  the 
command. 

"  Unfortunately  his  career  at  the  head  of  this  government 
was  short.  For  my  part,  in  all  that  I  have  seen  of  him,  I  have 
found  much  to  respect  and  nothing  to  condemn.  The  circum- 
stances under  which  he  conducted  the  government,  for  the  short 
time  he  was  at  the  head  of  it,  have  been  such  as  not  to  give 
him  a  very  favorable  opportunity  of  developing  his  principles 
and  his  policy,  and  carrying  them  out ;  but  I  believe  he  has 
left  on  the  minds  of  the  country  a  strong  impression,  first,  of 
his  absolute  honesty  and  integrity  of  character ;  next,  of  his 
sound,  practical  good-sense ;  and,  lastly,  of  the  mildness,  kind- 
ness, and  friendliness  of  his  temper  toward  all  his  country- 
men. 

"  But  he  is  gone.  He  is  ours  no  more,  except  in  the  force  of 
his  example.  Sir,  I  heard  with  infinite  delight  the  sentiments 
p,xpressed  by  my  honorable  friend  from  Louisiana,  who  has  just 


WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

resumed  his  seat,  when  he  earnestly  prayed  that  this  event 
might  be  used  to  soften  the  animosities,  to  allay  party  criini- 
nations  and  recriminations,  and  to  restore  fellowship  and  good 
feeling  among  the  various  sections  of  the  Union.  Mr.  Secre- 
tary, great  as  is  our  loss  to-day,  if  these  inestimable  and  inap- 
preciable blessings  shall  have  been  secured  to  us  even  by  the 
death  of  Zachary  Taylor,  they  have  not  been  purchased  at  too 
high  a  price ;  and  if  his  spirit,  from  the  regions  to  which  he 
has  ascended,  could  see  these  results  from  his  unexpected  and 
untimely  end,  if  he  could  see  that  he  had  entwined  a  soldier's 
laurel  around  a  martyr's  crown,  he  would  say  exultingly, 
'Happy  am  I,  that  by  my  death  I  have  done  more  for  that 
country  which  I  loved  and  served,  than  I  did  or  could  do  by 
all  the  devotion  and  all  the  efforts  that  I  could  make  in  her  be- 
half during  the  short  span  of  my  earthly  existence!'" 

When  the  last  solemn  respects  had  been  paid  to  the  remains 
and  memory  of  the  departed  president,  the  discussion  of  the 
compromise  measures  was  again  resumed  ;  and  it  was  at  this 
time,  and  on  this  subject,  following  Mr.  Butler,  of  South  Caro- 
lina, that  Mr.  Webster  delivered  his  last  speech,  and  uttered 
his  last  word,  in  the  senate  of  the  United  States,  where  he  had 
been  so  long  the  acknowledged  head  among  its  orators  and 
statesmen,  it  was  delivered  on  the  17th  of  July,  1850;  and 
it  was  immediately  issued  in  pamphlet,  in  which  form  it  was 
extensively  circulated  and  read  in  pvery  section  of  the  Union. 
It  was  a  very  able  eftbrl,  the  title-page  itself  bearing  sufficient 
proof,  that  the  production  was  from  no  common  man.  His 
tact  at  making  historical  and  poetical  quotations  has  been,  as 
before  seen,  greatly  celebrated  ;  but  there  is  perhaps  no  exam- 
ple in  all  his  writings,  of  a  perfectly  apposite  quotation,  sur- 
passing that  employed  as  the  motto  of  this  address.  He  had 
been  misunderstood,  misrepresented,  slandered,  abused,  at  home 
in  Massachusetts,  and  in  every  northern  state,  for  having  yielded 
too  much,  and  that  for  ambitious  purposes,  in  the  great  contro- 


LAST  SPEECH  IN  THE  SENATE.  427 

versy  still  raging ;  and  it  was  thought  by  many,  and  expressed 
by  some,  that  the  end  of  all  these  Union-saving  measures  would 
be,  or  might  be,  a  dissolution  of  the  Union.  Prophesies  of  na- 
tional disaster,  and  threats  of  a  personal  character,  had  been 
freely  lavished  by  the  northern  press  upon  Mr.  Webster ;  but 
he  had  stood  erect,  and  firm,  and  immovable,  conscious  of 
no  motive  for  his  conduct  but  that  of  being  useful  to  his  coun- 
try ;  and  now,  in  sending  to  the  world  his  concluding  etfort  for 
the  peace  and  harmony  of  the  states,  he  calls  attention  to  an 
illustrious  crisis  in  English  history,  where  a  similar  spirit  of 
conciliation  had  saved  the  kingdom,  by  quoting  the  memora- 
ble words  of  Burke:  "Alas!  alas!  when  will  this  speculating 
against  fact  and  reason  end  ?  What  will  quiet  these  passive 
fears  which  we  entertain  of  the  hostile  effect  of  a  conciliatory 
conduct  ?  Is  all  authority  of  course  lost,  when  it  is  not  pushed 
to  the  extreme  ]  All  these  objections  being  in  fact  no  more 
than  suspicions,  conjectures,  divinations,  formed  in  defiance  "of 
fact  and  experience,  they  did  not  discourage  me  from  entertain- 
ing the  idea  of  conciliatory  concession,  founded  on  the  princi- 
ples which  I  have  stated."  What  could  have  been  mo-e  to 
Mr.  Webster's  purpose  ?  It  would  almost  seem,  when  the 
facts  in  both  cases  are  closely  compared,  and  when  tlie  lan- 
guage of  the  English  statesman  is  compared  with  what  the 
American  statesman  might  have  hoped  that  some  such  great 
authority  had  sometime  said,  that  the  event  and  the  comment 
had  both  occurred  expressly  for  the  benefit  and  use.  at  this  par- 
ticular crisis,  of  Mr.  Webster.  All  history,  and  the  entire 
range  of  literature,  could  scarcely  have  furnished  so  apt  a  pas- 
sage, which,  probably,  occurred  to  the  mind  of  the  greaf  man 
the  moment  he  had  decided  to  fix  a  motto  to  his  performance. 
Such  was  the  compass  of  his  reasoning,  and  such  the  prompt- 
ness of  his  intellectual  faculties,  till  the  very  closing  period  and 
last  days  of  his  existence  ! 

Having  g!ven,  on  a  former  page,  the  first  vrords  uttered  by 


428  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTERPIECES. 

Mr.  Webster  in  the  congress  of  the  United  States,  the  period 
has  now  come  when  his  last  words  can  be  here  recorded  ;  and 
it  will  be  evident  that  they  are  words  worthy,  not  only  of  pe- 
rusal, and  of  simple  recollection,  but  of  being  written  and  en- 
graved on  the  most  durable  material,  in  characters  to  be  read 
by  all  his  countrymen,  and  especially  by  those  who  have  inno- 
cently misunderstood  him.  After  having  finished  the  argu- 
ment in  the  case,  in  which  he  had  shown  that  the  compromises 
proposed  to  be  made,  between  the  north  and  the  south,  were 
legitimate  subjects  of  compromise,  and  that,  as  matters  of  pub- 
lic interest,  they  were  not  all  on  either  side,  but  were  such  as 
very  fairly  and  equally  balanced  each  other,  he  brings  the  sen- 
ate to  a  final  decision  by  asking  what  is  to  be  done,  and  then 
telling  them  plainly  what  he  shall  do,  whatever  course  may  be 
pursued  by  others :  "  And  now,  Mr.  President,  to  return  at 
last  to  the  principal  and  important  question  before  us,  What 
are  we  to  do  1  How  are  we  to  bring  this  emergent  and  press- 
ing question  to  an  issue  and  an  end  ?  Here  have  we  been 
seven  and  a  half  months,  disputing  about  points  which,  in  my 
judgment,  are  of  no  practical  importance  to  one  or  the  other 
part  of  the  country.  Are  we  to  dwell  forever  upon  a  single 
topic,  a  single  idea?  Are  we  to  forget  all  the  purposes  for 
which  governments  are  instituted,  and  continue  everlastingly 
to  dispute  about  that  which  is  of  no  essential  consequence  1  1 
think,  sir,  the  country  calls  upon  us  kuidly  and  imperatively  to 
settle  this  question.  I  think  that  the  whole  world  is  looking  to  see 
whether  this  great  popular  government  can  get  through  such  a 
crisis.  We  are  the  observed  of  all  observers.  It  is  not  to  be 
disputed  or  doubted,  that  the  eyes  of  all  Christendom  are  upon 
us.  We  have  stood  through  many  trials.  Can  we  not  stand 
through  this,  which  takes  so  much  the  character  of  a  sectional 
controversy  ?  Can  we  stand  that  1  There  is  no  inquiring  man 
iii  all  Europe  who  does  not  ask  himselt  that  question  every 
day,  when  he  reads  the  Intelligence  of  the  morning.  Can  thia 


LAST    SPEECH    CONTINUED.  429 

country,  with  one  set  of  interests  at  the  south,  and  another  set 
of  interests  at  the  north,  and  these  interests  supposed,  but 
falsely  supposed,  to  be  at  variance  ;  can  this  people  see  what  is 
so  evident  to  the  whole  world  beside,  that  this  Union  is  their 
main  hope  and  greatest  benefit,  and  that  their  interests  in  every 
part  are  entirely  compatible?  Can  they  see,  and  will  they 
feel,  that  their  prosperity,  their  respectability  among  the  na- 
tions of  the  earth,  and  their  happiness  at  home,  depend  upon 
the  maintenance  of  their  Union  and  their  constitution  ?  That 
is  the  question.  I  agree  that  local  divisions  are  apt  to  warp 
the  understandings  of  men,  and  to  excite  a  belligerent  feeling 
between  section  and  section.  It  is  natural,  in  times  of  irrita- 
tion, for  one  part  of  the  country  to  say,  If  you  do  that,  I  will 
do  this,  and  so  get  up  a  feeling  of  hostility  and  defiance.  Then 
comes  belligerent  legislation,  and  then  an  appeal  to  arms.  The 
question  is,  whether  we  have  the  true  patriotism,  the  Ameri- 
canism,  necessary  to  carry  us  through  such  a  trial.  The  whole 
world  is  looking  toward  us  with  extreme  anxiety.  For  my- 
self, I  propose,  sir,  to  abide  by  the  principles  and  the  purposes 
which  I  have  avowed.  I  shall  stand  by  the  Union,  and  by  all 
who  stand  by  it.  I  shall  do  justice  to  the  whole  country,  ac- 
cording to  the  best  of  my  ability,  in  all  I  say,  and  act  for  the 
good  of  the  whole  country  in  all  I  do.  I  mean  to  stand  upon 
the  constitution.  I  need  no  other  platform.  I  shall  know  but 
one  country.  The  ends  I  aim  at  shall  be  my  country's, 
my  God's,  and  truth's.  I  was  born  an  American;  I  will  live 
an  American ;  I  shall  die  an  American ;  and  I  intend  to  per- 
form the  duties  incumbent  upon  me  in  that  character  to  the 
end  of  my  career.  I  mean  to  do  this,  with  absolute  disregard 
of  personal  consequences.  What  are  personal  consequences  ? 
What  is  the  individual  man,  with  all  the  good  or  evil  that  may 
betide  him,  in  comparison  with  the  good  or  evil  which  may 
befall  a  great  country  in  a  crisis  like  this,  and  in  the  midst  of 
great  transactions  which  concern  that  country's  fate  ?  Let  the 


430  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

consequences  be  what  they  will,  I  am  careless.  No  man  can 
suffer  toe  much,  and  no  man  can  fell  too  soon,  if  he  suffer  or 
if  he  fall  in  defence  of  the  liberties  and  constitution  of  his 
country." 

The  death  of  General  Taylor,  and  the  unexpected  as  well  as 
needless  if  not  factious  resignation  of  his  cabinet,  threw  upon 
Mr.  Fillraore,  suddenly  and  at  an  evil  time,  the  task  always 
difficult,  even  under  circumstances  the  most  favorable  for  de- 
liberation, of  nominating  a  new  cabinet.  It  is  not  to  be  doubted, 
that  Mr.  Fillmore  would  have  chosen  to  have  the  former  mem- 
bers hold  office,  at  least  till  he  could  find  time,  after  being  thus 
called  upon  to  assume  the  reins  of  government,  to  look  care- 
fully into  a  duty,  which,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  could 
never  have  formed  with  him  the  subject  of  a  moment's  con- 
templation. It  is  understood,  too,  that  he  gave  utterance  of 
his  desires  to  this  effect ;  but,  even  if  that  were  so,  no  heed  was 
given  to  his  wishes.  In  a  day,  in  an  hour,  he  was  compelled 
to  appoint  all  his  ministers,  or  leave  the  departments  of  gov 
ernment  without  their  proper  officers.  Thus  forced  to  act,  and 
to  act  at  a  time  when  a  mistake  would  have  proved  fatal  to  hi? 
administration,  and  perhaps  fatal  to  the  existence  of  the  repub- 
lic, he  laid  his  commands  upon  a  statesman,  for  the  first  posi- 
tion in  his  cabinet,  whose  views  corresponded  very  exactly  with 
his  own,  and  who,  for  nearly  forty  years,  had  shown  himself  to 
be,  not  only  superior  to  the  most  distinguished  of  his  country- 
men, but  equal  to  any  demand  that  had  ever  been  made  upon 
him.  That  man,  it  need  not  be  said,  was  Daniel  Webster. 
With  his  assistance,  and  guided  by  the  conscious  integrity  of 
his  own  honest  heart,  Mr.  Fillmore  commenced  an  administra- 
tion, which,  for  the  fundamental  and  serious  difficulties  sur- 
rounding it,  bears  no  comparison  with  the  most  difficult  of 
former  administrations,  and  which  would  suffer  nothing  by 
a  comparison,  for  honesty  and  uprightness,  with  the  most 
illustrious. 


COMMENDATORY    LETTERS.  43 

Both  before  and  immediately  after  going  into  Mr.  Fillmore'tf 
cabinet,  Mr.  Webster  received  from  all  parts  of  the  country, 
in  the  midst  of  all  the  opprobrium  and  opposition  encountered 
by  him,  as  many  tokens  of  continued  confidence,  a«  ho  Had  ever 
received  in  any  equal  period  of  his  life.  Letters  of  approval, 
of  commendation,  of  eulogy,  came  to  him  from  all  sections  of 
the  country,  but  mostly  from  the  north.  Men  of  tho  first  dis- 
tinction, and  even  members  of  the  democratic  party,  who  had 
never  before  felt  compelled  to  do  him  justice,  as  well  as  hun- 
dreds of  his  fellow-citizens  of  New  England,  and  among  them 
his  old  friends  and  neighbors  of  New  Hampshire  and  Massa- 
chusets,  now  wrote  to  him  in  terms  of  praise  which  caused  him 
to  shed  tears  of  gratitude  for  the  kindness  and  truthfulness  man- 
ifested toward  him.  From  the  Hon.  Thomas  H.  Perkins,  the 
philanthropist  of  Boston,  from  the  Hon.  Isaac  Hill,  the  well- 
known  democratic  governor  of  New  Hampshire,  from  a  large 
number  of  citizens  of  Newburyport,  Massachusetts,  from  an 
equal  or  a  larger  number  of  the  citizens  of  Medford,  of  the 
same  state,  from  R.  II.  Gardiner,  Esq.,  in  behalf  of  the  inhab- 
itants living  along  the  banks  of  the  Kennebec  river,  from  the 
Rev.  Ebenezer  Price,  who  addressed  him  on  the  part  of  Mr. 
Webster's  old  neighbors  in  New  Hampshire,  from  various 
persons  of  the  first  consideration  living  throughout  the  middle 
states,  from  George  Griswold,  Esq.,  who  conveyed  to  him  an 
invitation  to  visit  the  city  of  New  York,  signed  by  more  than 
five  thousand  of  the  leading  citizens  of  the  great  commercial 
metropolis,  as  well  as  from  numerous  other  sources,  letters 
came  flying  to  him,  with  almost  every  post  for  months,  bear- 
ing to  him  the  most  cordial  approbation  of  his  course.  Never, 
perhaps,  at  any  moment  of  his  life,  did  he  receive  so  many  and 
so  substantial  proofs  of  the  estimation  in  which  he  was  held  by 
the  first  men  of  the  republic ;  and  never,  it  may  be,  consider- 
ing the  abuse  falling  upon  him  from  other  quarters,  did  he  ever 
rely  so  serenely  on  a  quiet  consciousness  of  having  done  his 


432  WEBSTER    AND    HI8    MASTER-PIECES. 

duty,  or  with  a  firmer  reliance  on  the  final  justice  which  he  be- 
lieved would  ultimately  be  done  him,  than  at  the  moment 
when  he  completed  his  career  as  a  member  of  the  American 
congress,  and  entered  upon  his  duties,  which  he  must  have 
sometimes  felt  might  not  be  of  long  continuance,  as  the  first 
cabinet  officer  of  Mr.  Fillmore's  administration.  The  great 
crisis,  indeed,  in  respect  to  his  reputation,  had  now  passed. 
The  country  had  had  time  to  judge  him,  not  by  his  7th  of 
March  speech  alone,  but  by  a  candid  and  full  perusal  of  all  his 
speeches,  those  of  1850,  as  well  as  all  others  relating  to  the 
same  general  subject.  The  scale  of  judgment  was  now  turn- 
ing in  his  favor ;  and  he  found  himself,  after  his  first  general 
misunderstanding  with  his  constituents,  rapidly  rising  to  bis 
original  position  with  them,  with  a  fair  prospect,  not  now  to  be 
disappointed,  of  reaching  an  eminence  among  them  as  much 
higher  than  he  would  have  held,  as  his  sacrifices  for  the  har- 
mony and  prosperity  of  the  country  had  been  more  than  com- 
monly misunderstood  and  misrepresented  by  them  : 

"'Tis  strange  how  many  unimagined  charges 
Can  swarm  upon  a  man,  when  once  the  lid 
Of  the  Pandora  box  of  contumely 
Is  opened  o'er  his  head." 

But,  as  the  immortal  dramatist  has  elsewhere  said, 

"  Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adversity, 
Which,  like  a  toad,  ugly  and  venomous, 
Wears  yet  a  precious  jewel  in  his  head." 

And  a  poet  of  milder  genius,  but  of  deep  experience,  has 
added  a  concluding  sentiment,  which,  in  this  case,  may  be  re 
garded  in  the  light  of  a  prediction : 

"Heaven  lut  tries  our  virtue  by  afflictions; 
As  oft  the  cloud  that  wraps  the  pres  Jit  hour, 
Serves  but  to  lighten  all  our  future  lays." 


BOUNDARIES    OF    TEXAS.  433 

On  entering  the  second  time  the  department  of  state,  Mr. 
Webster  had  no  great  amount  of  labor  to  perform  in  looking 
up  the  condition  of  our  relations  to  other  countries.  All  these 
relations  he  understood  as  well  as  any  other  citizen  of  the 
country  ;  and  his  predecessor  had  left  no  chronic  difficulties, 
such  as  the  secretary  had  found  in  the  department  when  in 
office  under  Mr.  Tyler,  to  embarrass  him  in  the  discharge  of 
his  regular  duties.  The  controversy  between  New  Mexico  and 
Texas,  hi  respect  to  boundary,  which  Mr.  Webster  had  urged 
congress  to  settle  by  legislation,  was  still  pending  ;  and  he  had 
scarcely  taken  possession  of  his  department,  when  his  attention 
was  called  to  a  letter  from  the  Hon.  P.  H.  Bell,  governor  of 
Texas,  to  President  Taylor,  asking  information  in  relation  to 
the  nature  and  limits  of  the  military  authority,  which,  by  the 
advice  and  direction  of  General  Taylor,  had  been  extended  over 
that  part  of  New  Mexico  claimed  by  Texas.  Had  Mr.  Web- 
ster's advice  as  a  senator  been  followed,  such  a  question  could 
not  have  existed  ;  but,  it  being  now  on  hand,  he  addresses  him- 
self to  it  with  his  customary  candor  and  ability.  He  takes  the 
ground  that  the  authority  set  up  over  New  Mexico  was  mili 
tary,  because  that  province  came  into  our  possession  by  mili- 
tary conquest ;  that  it  would  continue,  of  course,  only  so  long 
as  New  Mexico  should  continue  to  be  without  a  form  of  gov- 
ernment authorized  by  congress ;  and  that,  until  such  a  gov- 
ernment should  be  established,  the  question  of  boundaries  be- 
tween the  province  and  the  state  would  remain  unchanged,  so 
far  as  anything  done  or  to  be  done  either  by  Texas  or  New 
Mexico  could  be  supposed  to  affect  the  subject.  The  author- 
ity now  exercised  in  New  Mexico  would  be  maintained ;  but 
in  relation  to  the  question  of  boundary,  which  was  a  question 
for  congress  to  decide,  the  president  had  no  duty  and  conse- 
quently no  concern. 

On  the  30th  of  September,  1850,  the  Chevalier  J.  G.  Hiilse- 
mann,  charge  d'affaires  of  his  majesty,  the  emperor  of  Austria, 


134  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

addressed  an  official  note  to  the  secretary  of  state  of  the  United 
States,  remonstrating,  in  the  name  of  his  government,  against 
the  mission  of  Mr.  Dudley  Mann,  who,  at  the  time  of  the  Hun- 
garian revolution,  had  been  despatched  by  the  American  presi- 
dent to  proceed  to  Austria  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  and  re- 
mitting to  Washington  authentic  and  reliable  information,  from 
time  to  time,  in  relation  to  that  interesting  struggle.  Mr. 
Mann  had  been  so  prudent  in  his  movements,  while  residing 
and  traveling  in  Austria,  that  the  first  intelligence  of  his  hav- 
ing been  there  at  all  was  received  by  the  imperial  government 
from  a  message  of  the  American  president  to  his  congress. 
This  fact  alone  should  have  been  sufficient  proof,  even  to  Aus- 
tria, as  it  must  have  been  to  all  other  governments,  that  no- 
thing injurious  had  been  done  to  the  authority  of  the  emperor 
in  his  dominions ;  but  the  object  of  that  mission,  the  seeking 
of  information  with  a  view  to  an  early  recognition  of  Hunga- 
rian independence,  especially  when  honestly  avowed  by  Mr. 
Fillmore,  roused  the  ire  of  the  imperial  Francis  Joseph,  who, 
like  a  youthful  Hotspur  as  he  was,  demanded  an  immediate 
acknowledgment,  on  our  part,  with  something  like  a  guaranty 
of  better  behavior  for  the  future.  Not  only  was  the  topic  of 
the  note  of  the  charge  ridiculous,  but  the  style  of  it  was  almost 
silly  ;  and  the  whole  demand,  both  as  to  matter  and  manner, 
only  excited  the  risibilities  of  Mr.  Webster. 

His  answer  has  been  ascribed,  at  least  in  the  gossip  of  the 
day,  to  Mr.  Everett ;  the  newspapers,  in  fact,  have  published  a 
claim  as  set  up  by  that  gentleman  to  the  authorship  of  this  per- 
formance ;  but,  if  there  is  not  a  plain  mistake  somewhere,  there 
is  certainly  no  sufficient  proof  of  any  such  paternity,  or  of  any 
just  claim  to  it;  while  the  fact  of  its  having  been  for  four  years 
universally  ascribed  to  Mr.  Webster,  and  even  lauded  by  Mr. 
Everett  as  one  of  Mr.  Webster's  most  happy  efforts,  leaves  no 
great  reason  to  doubt  upon  this  subject.  Were  it  even  true, 
that  Mr.  Webster  was  ill  at  the  time  the  letter  to  Mr.  Hulse. 


REPLY    TO    HULSEMANN.  435 

mann  .vas  composed ;  that  Mr.  Everett  may  have  been  em 
ployed  by  Mr.  Webster  to  write  out  a  draft  of  it ;  and  that 
that  draft,  in  Mr.  Everett's  own  hand,  is  still  extant — all  this 
would  do  but  little  toward  confirming  the  authorship  to  Mr 
Everett.  Let  it  be  granted,  indeed,  that  the  American  seem 
tary,  sick  at  home,  availed  himself  of  the  help  of  his  distin- 
guished friend ;  that  he  talked  over  the  subject,  as  he  was  cer- 
tainly able  and  would  scarcely  fail  to  do,  item  by  item,  with 
him  ;  and  that  those  items,  thus  matured,  were  then  actually 
written  down  by  him,  to  be  afterwards  revised  and  corrected, 
as  is  known  to  be  the  fact,  by  Mr.  Webster.  If  all  this  ser- 
vice, and  a  great  deal  more,  would  transfer  authorslu'p  from 
the  original  mind  to  an  assistant,  however  distinguished  that 
assistant  might  be  himself  for  talents,  the  world  w'ould  at  once 
have  to  make  out  a  new  list  of  authors,  which  would  dispossess 
the  greatest  geniuses  of  all  times  of  the  titles  by  which  they 
have  held  their  fame.  Shakspeare,  by  such  a  canon,  would 
cease  to  be  Shakspeare ;  and,  by  the  same  rule,  Paradise  Lost 
would  be  set  down  as  written,  not  by  Milton,  but  by  Milton's 
daughters.  But  there  is  no  room  even  for  such  a  supposition, 
nor  for  such  an  argument.  "  The  correspondence  with  the 
Austrian  charge  d'affaires,"  says  Mr.  Everett,  in  his  brief  but 
summary  biography  of  Mr.  Webster,  "  is  the  worthy  comple- 
ment, after  an  interval  of  a  quarter  of  a  century,  to  the  pro- 
found discussion  of  international  politics  contained  in  the  speech 
of  January,  1824,  on  the  revolution  of  Greece,  and  that  of  1826, 
on  the  congress  of  Panama."  This  is  Mr.  Everett's  eulogium 
on  the  letter ;  and  he  certainly  could  have  uttered  no  higher 
one,  as  he  well  knew,  than  to  compare  it  with  either  of  the  two 
illustrious  speeches,  which,  for  everything  constituting  master- 
pieces, have  been  but  seldom  equaled  even  by  Mr.  Webster ; 
nor  is  it  at  all  supposable,  that  such  a  citizen  as  Edward  Eve- 
rett, hitherto  so  disingenuous  in  all  his  conduct,  at  least  so 
praised  for  every  noble  trait  of  character,  would  stoop  so  low 
VOL.  i.  S  28 


436  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

as  to  claim  another  man's  work,  or  load  with  eu.ogy  an  effort 
of  his  own. 

This  reply  to  Hiilsemann,  therefore,  whatever  may  have  been 
the  circumstances  of  its  composition,  must  now  go  down  to  fu- 
ture generations,  as  the  work,  the  undoubted  work,  in  every 
respect  really  affecting  authorship,  of  Mr.  Webster ;  and  it  is 
undeniably,  in  every  way,  though  not  the  ablest  of  his  perform- 
ances, a  production  worthy  of  his  genius.  It  was  at  once 
greatly  celebrated.  Not  only  by  the  newspapers  of  the  day, 
but  by  several  historical  and  authentic  publications,  the  Amer- 
ican public  had  just  been  put  in  possession  of  very  perfect  in- 
formation in  respect  to  the  origin,  progress,  and  results  of  the 
Hungarian  revolution ;  and,  on  the  appearance  of  the  secreta- 
ry's answer,  they  were  well  prepared  to  understand  its  argu- 
ments and  its  allusions,  whose  point  would  otherwise  have  been 
lost  upon  them.  His  main  position,  that  the  emperor  of  Austria 
had  no  right  to  complain  of  this  government  for  being  friendly 
to  struggles  similar  to  that  by  which  we  had  established  the 
liberty  and  happiness  of  this  country,  was  as  conclusive  as  it 
was  patriotic ;  and  his  retort,  that  the  very  complaint,  founded 
on  an  avowal  of  the  American  president  to  his  own  congress, 
of  an  unjustifiable  interference  on  our  part  with  the  internal 
aflairs  of  a  foreign  government,  was  itself  just  such  an  act  of 
improper  interference,  though  obvious  enough,  was  of  a  charac- 
ter to  give  infinite  delight  to  the  masses  of  our  people ;  but 
when  they  read  those  passages,  in  which  the  secretary  magni- 
fies his  native  land,  "  in  comparison  with  which  the  possessions 
of  the  house  of  Hapsburg  are  but  as  a  patch  on  the  earth's  sur- 
face," which,  consequently,  could  not  dream  of  deterring  "either 
the  government  or  the  people  of  the  United  States  from  exer- 
cising, at  their  own  discretion,  the  rights  belonging  to  them  as 
an  independent  nation,  and  of  forming  and  expressing  their 
own  opinions,  freely  and  at  all  times,"  their  enthusiasm  over- 
passed all  ordinary  buunds.  The  whole  communication,  in 


EXTENSION*    OF    THE    CAPITOL.  43T 

.tact,  though  not  to  be  compared  with  the  secretary's  letter  to 
Lord  Ashburton  on  impressment,  and  to  several  other  of  his 
productions,  carried  in  it  the  elements  of  very  great  popular- 
ity, and  rose  immediately  to  an  extraordinary  celebrity,  both 
in  this  country  and  in  Europe.  It  was  translated  into  the  Ger- 
man language ;  and  thousands  of  copies  of  it  are  said  to  have 
been  surreptitiously  circulated  even  in  the  Austrian  dominions. 
In  this  country,  it  is  really  humiliating  to  add,  th:s  simple  com- 
munication, to  which  Mr.  Webster  could  have  attached  no 
great  importance,  which  was  the  production  of  a  playful  mo 
ment,  and  which  cost  him  not  half  the  labor  of  thought  be- 
stowed on  some  individual  pages  of  his  acknowledged  master- 
pieces, was  seized  upon  by  superficial  people,  prior  to  the  suc- 
ceeding presidential  nomination,  as  a  chief  reason  for  making 
him  the  next  president  of  the  republic !  An  office  which  had 
not  been  gained  by  a  long  life  of  services  the  most  illustrious, 
but  which  could  be  won  or  offered  on  terms  so  cheap  and  by 
merit  so  comparatively  shallow,  could  scarcely  be  coveted  by 
any  high-minded  man,  and  would  certainly  be  beneath  the  dig 
nity  of  such  a  citizen  as  Daniel  Webster !  A  people,  who 
could  make  the  choice  of  their  first  magistrate  rest  on  such  a 
basis,  on  the  writing  of  a  letter,  would  be  on  a  par  with  the 
nation  that  should  suspend  the  same  interest  on  Lie  fortune  of  a 
battle,  and,  in  either  case,  would  not  fail  to  meet  the  curse  of  be- 
ing ruled  by  the  most  unworthy  and  inferior  of  their  number ! 
For  several  years  preceding  these  events,  in  consequence 
of  the  great  extension  of  our  country,  the  capitol  at  Wu*h- 
ington  had  been  felt  by  congress,  and  by  nil  visitors,  to 
be  too  small  for  the  purposes  of  so  great  a  nation  ;  and,  conse- 
quently, on  the  30th  of  September,  1850,  an  act  was  passed 
by  both  houses,  making  provision  for  the  enlargement  of  tho 
edifice  according  to  such  plan  as  might  receive  the  approval  of 
the  president.  The  work  was  to  be  undertaken  and  carried  on 
under  his  direction ;  and,  therefore,  early  in  his  administration, 


438  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER- PIECES. 

Mr.  Fill  more  employed  an  architect,  approved  of  a  plA_j,  and 
made  every  suitable  preparation  for  commencing  operations 
during  the  spring  or  summer  of  the  following  year.  By  the 
last  of  June,  all  things  were  ready  for  laying  the  corner-stone ; 
but  this  pleasing  ceremony  was  deferred  that  it  might  take 
place  on  the  anniversary  day  of  American  independence,  a  day 
which  could  hardly  receive  a  more  suitable  commemoration. 
The  corner-stone  of  the  original  building  had  been  laid  by 
Washington  on  the  18th  of  September,  1793.  He  had  been 
assisted  by  some  of  the  most  eminent  men  of  that  period;  and, 
when  Mr.  Fillmore  was  to  perform  a  similar  duty,  to  make 
the  occasion  most  memorable,  he  relied  on  the  presence,  and 
aid,  and  eloquence  of  Daniel  Webster.  After  the  ceremony 
of  depositing  the  stone  had  been  completed,  Mr.  Webster  stood 
up  before  the  vast  assemblage,  which  was  probably  as  large  a 
body  of  people  as  had  ever  been  seen  in  one  place  at  Wash- 
ington, and  pronounced  that  oration,  which,  for  appropriateness 
to  the  occasion,  for  sound  political  wisdom,  for  patriotic  senti- 
ment, and  for  all  his  characteristic  felicity  of  expression,  may 
well  stand  and  go  down  to  posterity  as  the  last  great  perform- 
ance of  the  first  orator  and  statesman  of  his  country.  It  will 
be  read  and  admired  while  there  is  a  country,  a  free  country, 
an  enlightened,  patriotic,  American  republic,  to  admire  any- 
thing worthy  of  admiration. 

It  was  during  this  first  year  of  Mr.  Fillmore's  administra- 
tion, that  the  expedition  of  Lopez  against  Cuba  came  to  so  just 
and  yet  so  sad  a  termination.  Its  ill  success,  however,  did  but 
little  in  suppressing  the  adventurous  spirit  that  had  inspired 
that  movement.  Cuba,  if  added  to  the  Union,  would  not  only 
soon  constitute  a  southern  and  a  slave-holding  state,  but  it 
might  be  made,  and  doubtless  would  be  made,  the  great  slave- 
mart  of  all  the  other  slave-holding  states.  The  object  of  this 
expedition  had  been  to  revolutionize  the  island  as  the  first  step 
towards  its  annexation  to  this  republic  ;  and  Lopez,  \  worthless 


MR.  CALDERON'S  LETTER  TO  MR.  WEBSTER.  43S 

but  bold  adventurer,  and  a  Spaniard,  who  held  his  life  cheap, 
had  been  employed  as  the  most  fit  person,  considering  his  na- 
tionality and  his  fearlessness  of  character,  to  conduct  it.  He 
had  been  successful  in  alluring  many  thoughtless  and  equally 
worthless  young  men  of  this  country,  gathered  from  the  cor- 
ruptest  portions  of  our  great  Atlantic  cities,  and  in  thus  draw- 
ing together  quite  an  army.  His  head-quarters,  before  em- 
barking, had  been  made  at  New  Orleans  ;  but,  on  landing  on 
the  island,  after  a  few  slight  successes,  he  had  been  cut  to  pieces 
by  the  troops  of  the  colonial  government.  He  was  himself 
garroted,  or  strangled,  according  to  an  old  Spanish  custom ; 
and  he  died  with  the  firmness  of  a  desperado.  Fifty  of  his  fol- 
lowers suffered  a  similar  fate ;  and  the  remainder  of  his  delu- 
ded band,  except  a  few  who  were  pardoned,  were  carried  in 
chains  to  Spain  to  await  the  orders  of  the  imperial  government. 
This  termination  of  things  so  disappointed  their  friends  and 
sympathizers  at  home,  that  excessive  feelings  began  to  mani- 
fest themselves  in  several  of  our  great  cities,  among  the  lower 
population ;  and,  at  New  Orleans,  the  disappointment  was  so 
intense,  that  the  rabble  rushed  upon  the  office  of  the  Spanish 
consul,  tore  up  or  seriously  insulted  and  mutilated  the  Spanish 
flag,  and  even  fell  upon  the  property  and  persons  of  peaceable 
Spanish  citizens,  committing  outrages  of  a  very  unusual  and 
heinous  character. 

In  this  condition  of  affairs,  the  Spanish  minister  at  Washing, 
ton,  Don  Calderon  de  la  Barca,  addressed  a  note  to  Mr.  Web- 
ster, dated  October  14th,  1851,  complaining  of  these  outrages, 
and  demanding  immediate  reparation  at  the  hands  of  the  fede- 
ral government.  His  demand  was  entirely  just;  and  Mr. 
Webster  sent  him  a  reply,  dated  the  13th  of  November,  cor- 
dially condemning,  in  the  name  of  the  American  government, 
this  ill-starred  and  wicked  expedition,  and  promising  every 
possible  and  constitutional  satisfaction  for  the  excesses  at  New 
Orleans,  which  the  president  had  power  to  make.  This  move 


440  •RKBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

raent  against  Cuba,  which  was  sought  after  for  the  immoral 
purposes  before  stated,  could  not  fail  to  meet  with  the  most 
settled  and  determined  opposition  of  the  secretary  ;  and  the 
president  himself  was  equally  resolved,  shutting  his  eyes  to  all 
considerations  of  personal  popularity,  either  at  the  south  or 
north,  to  call  into  action  the  entire  military  force  of  the  coun- 
try, if  necessary,  to  put  down  an  enterprise  so  unjust  in  itself, 
so  injurious  to  our  fair  name  abroad,  and  so  destructive  of  all 
sound  political  morality  at  home.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  in 
fact,  that  the  country  owes  it  to  that  high-minded  administra- 
tion, that  the  escutcheon  of  liberty  was  not  at  that  time  blotted 
with  a  crime,  which  would  have  dishonored  and  weakened  us 
abroad,  and  covered  the  face  of  every  worthy  and  well-mean- 
ing citizen  with  shame.  It  was  a  poor  time,  certainly,  with 
Millard  Fillmore  as  president,  and  with  Daniel  Webster  in  the 
chair  of  state,  to  undertake  expeditions  of  attack  and  conquest 
upon  the  rightful  possessions  of  our  neighbors.  Heaven  grant 
that  all  future  presidents,  and  all  succeeding  secretaries,  may 
imitate  the  rectitude  and  justice  of  their  example ! 

Immediately  following  this  correspondence  with  the  Spanish 
minister,  Mr.  Webster  dispatched  a  letter  to  Mr.  Barringer, 
our  minister  at  the  court  of  Madrid,  soliciting  in  the  most  elo- 
quent terms  the  release  of  those  American  prisoners,  who  had 
been  captured  in  Cuba,  and  who  were  now  under  sentence  of 
being  sent  to  the  Spanish  mines.  This  letter  is  wholly  charac- 
teristic of  Mr.  Webster.  It  opens  with  a  true  history  of  all 
the  facts  of  the  case,  honorably  stated  in  their  full  force,  and 
closes  with  an  appeal  to  the  magnanimity,  and  clemency,  and 
better  judgment  of  the  Spanish  government,  which  could  not 
fail  to  convince  and  move  either  a  philanthropic  or  a  prudent 
mind.  The  court  of  Madrid  felt  the  force  of  this  appeal ;  and, 
in  a  short  time,  Mr.  Webster  had  the  happiness  to  learn,  that 
a  hundred  and  sixty-two  of  his  unfortunate  but  not  blameless 


CASE    OF    THRASHER.  441 

countrjmen  had  been  restored  to  their  families,  if  not  to  a 
proper  life  and  conduct,  entirely  through  his  means. 

Among  the  individuals  captured  and  seized  by  the  authori- 
ties of  Cuba,  was  John  S.  Thrasher,  a  native-born  citizen  of  the 
United  States,  who,  many  years  before,  had  gone  to  the  island 
in  pursuit  of  business,  and  who  had  finally  settled  down  as  a 
citizen  of  Cuba,  and  taken  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  Spanish 
crown.     This  person,  while  the  movement  against  Cuba  was 
in  a  state  of  preparation,  had  some  connection,  it  is  said,  with 
the  publication  of  a  newspaper ;  and  when  the  invaders  were 
on  the  island,  before  and  after  their  defeat  and  capture,  he  was 
accused  of  administering  to  their  aid  and  comfort.     It  was 
pretty  clear,  in  fact,  at  the  time  these  events  transpired,  that 
Mr.  Thrasher  had  chosen  to  leave  his  native  country,  for  the 
purpose  of  making  his  residence  within  the  limits  and  under 
the  jurisdiction  of  another  government ;  that,  in  order  to  ob- 
tain the  full  protection  of  the  Spanish  laws,  without  which  his 
business  could  not  have  been  so  well  or  so  profitably  conducted, 
he  had  sworn  fealty  to  the  Spanish  crown,  promising  to  abide 
by  and  observe  all  the  regulations  of  the  country  where  he  had 
voluntarily  taken  up  his  residence ;  but  that,  contrary  to  all 
good  principle,  he  had  broken  his  faith  with  the  Spanish  gov- 
ernment, from  the  beginning  of  this  adventure,  by  secretly 
sympathizing  with  it,  and  aiding  its  plans  of  conquest,  as  he 
could  not  have  done  without  his  legal  and  acknowledged  char- 
acter as  a  Spanish  citizen.     He  had  been  caught  in  his  mal- 
practices, however,  tried,   condemned,  and  sent  to  Spain  to 
spend  eight  years  at  hard  labor.     His  friends  at  home  delayed 
not,  of  course,  to  make  application    to    the  American  gov- 
ernment in  his  behalf;  and,  before  there  was  time  to  search 
out   the   facts   in    the   case,  they   very   unjustly    complained 
of  the  tardiness  of  Mr.  Webster  in  not  answering  their  demand 
more  speedily.     This  complaint  was  permitted  to  find  its  way 
into  the  public  prints ;  and  all  the  democratic  journals,  or  a 


442  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

large  numluer  of  them,  immediately  made  battle  on  him  a--  a 
slow  if  not  dilatory  officer.  Mr.  Webster  was  unmoved  by 
all  this  uproar.  He  went  directly  forward,  in  his  own  way, 
in  the  faithful  prosecution  of  what  he  supposed  to  be  his  duty. 
He  dispatched  two  letters,  one  after  the  other,  to  the  American 
consul  at  Havana ;  but  no  answers  came  to  him,  none,  at  least, 
in  time  to  give  him  the  needed  information  for  prompt  action. 
Mr.  Thrasher  himself,  though  filling  the  opposition  newspapers 
with  his  communications,  or  with  communications  purporting 
to  be  his,  sent  not  a  word  to  the  department  of  state  at  Wash- 
ington. From  other  sources,  however.  Mr.  Webster  received 
proof  enough,  that  Mr.  Thrasher  had  been  guilty  of  a  breach 
of  faith  with  the  Cuban  authorities  ;  that  he  was  consequently 
an  unreliable,  unsafe,  and  unworthy  man  ;  and  that,  should  his 
release  be  obtained,  he  would  Lo  more  than  likely  to  run  into 
the  same  or  some  similar  trouble  at  the  first  opportunity. 
Under  these  circumstances,  Mr.  Webster  could  not  be  ex- 
pected to  be  very  warm  or  very  hearty  i:i  his  application  to 
the  Spanish  court ;  and  he  chose  to  suffer  some  reproach  for  a 
time,  rather  than  be  found  pleading  with  any  excessive  earnest- 
ness the  cause  of  a  man,  who  would  be  almost  certain,  as  he 
thought,  soon  to  need  some  one  to  plead  in  his  behalf  again. 
Here,  as  so  frequently  before,  were  the  moderation  and  wis- 
dom of  Mr.  Webster  again  seen.  He  chose  to  suffer  rather 
than  do  wrong,  trusting  that,  whatever  might  be  the  passion  of 
the  hour,  the  day  of  deliberative  justice  would  at  some  time 
come.  That  day  has  now  come.  It  is  now  here.  That  very 
individual,  who  was  then  published  as  "  a  most  amiable  and 
peaceable  young  man,"  who  "  never  dreamed  of  having  any 
connection  with  the  invaders  of  Cuba,"  and  who  was  "  as  far 
from  raising  a  disturbance  with  other  countries  as  the  honora- 
ble secretary  himself,"  is  now,  at  this  moment,  while  these 
lines  are  being  penned,  according  to  the  public  prints  of  the 
day,  under  arrest  in  the  city  of  New  Orleans  for  an  effort  to 


COMMENCEMENT  OF  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  443 

repeal  the  offence  for  which  he  was  at  that  time  condemned. 
Mr.  Webster's  sagacity  was  never  shallow ;  and  his  power  of 
purpose  was  utterly  resistless  when  he  acted  under  a  settled 
conviction  that  he  was  right.  Happy  for  the  memory  of  Mr. 
Webster  that  this  last  distinguished  act,  as  an  American  states- 
man, was  an  act  of  mercy  so  performed  as  to  be  sanctioned 
and  sustained  by  the  strictest  sense  of  justice.  It  was  an  act  done 
under  the  blended  influence  of  those  cardinal  attributes  of  every 
really  great  man,  and  of  every  really  great  nation,  as  they  are 
of  the  character  of  the  great  God  himself,  into  whose  presence 
he  who  had  thus  acted  was  soon,  too  soon,  alas !  to  enter. 


Reader,  as  suddenly  as  is  here  indicated,  it  was  announced 
in  the  public  prints,  about  the  22d  of  September,  1852,  that 
Daniel  Webster  was  sick  at  Marshfield  ;  and,  from  the  condi- 
tion of  his  general  health  since  the  first  of'May  previous,  it  was 
at  once  seen  that  this  sickness  might  possibly  be  his  last  For 
about  twenty  years  he  had  been  subject  to  the  attacks  of  an 
annual  diarrhea,  which  began  as  an  occasional  looseness,  but 
which  finally  became,  three  or  four  years  before  his  death,  per- 
sistent ;  and  for  nearly  twenty  years,  also,  he  had  suffered  an- 
nually from  a  severe  kind  of  catarrh,  which  ordinarily  showed 
itself  near  the  middle  of  August,  and  continued  till  October. 
In  the  month  of  July,  1851,  he  spent  some  time  on  his  farm 
in  Franklin,  probably  with  the  hope,  that,  by  breathing  his 
native  air,  the  air  he  had  breathed  when  young  and  vigorous, 
he  might  possibly  escape  his  annual  sickness,  as  he  had  done  in 
1839,  while  breathing  the  similar  air  of  England.  By  a  slight 
exposure  on  the  damp  ground,  however,  he  not  only  precipita- 
ted his  chronic  troubles,  but  brought  on  an  attack  of  gout.  On 
the  9th  of  September  he  went  to  Boston  and  placed  himself 
iinder  the  care  of  his  family  physician.  Dr.  Jeffries,  who,  before 

VOL.  I.  S* 


444  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

the  month  was  out,  consented  to  his  return  to  Washington, 
The  following  winter  was  the  worst,  in  point  of  health,  which 
Mr.  Webster  had  ever  known,  though,  as  has  just  been  seen, 
he  performed  his  usual  amount  of  labor.  No  one  would  ima- 
gine, while  perusing  his  able  and  eloquent  official  letters  on  the 
Spanish  question,  that  they  were  written  by  a  man  worn  down 
with  sickness,  and  confined  to  his  house  and  room  by  a  com- 
plication of  several  severe  disorders,  either  one  of  which  might 
prove  him  mortal.  They  are  another  proof,  however,  of  the 
power  of  a  great  spirit  over  the  feebleness  of  a  tottering  physi- 
cal organization.  Such  a  spirit  will  sometimes  hold  the  body 
up ;  and  this  was  the  condition  of  Mr.  Webster  till  the  latter 
part  of  April,  1852,  when  he  could  hold  out  no  longer.  Leav- 
ing his  vast  business,  as  far  as  possible,  in  the  hands  of  his 
clerks,  he  retired  once  more  to  Marshfield,  either  hopeless  of 
recovery,  or  trusting  to  the  skill  of  his  physician,  who  had  had 
a  long  and  particular  acquaintance  with  all  the  habits  and  ten- 
dencies of  his  system,  both  in  disease  and  health.  On  the  Oth 
of  May,  while  making  an  excursion  through  the  adjacent  re- 
gion, he  was  thrown  from  his  carriage  very  suddenly  and  vio- 
lently ;  his  head  came  down  with  great  force  upon  the  ground, 
rendering  him  utterly  insensible  for  some  minutes  ;  and  it  was 
found  on  examination,  that  he  had  injured  the  joints  of  both 
wrists,  wounded  his  head  outwardly  near  the  right  temple,  and 
given  a  severe  shock  to  his  entire  system.  His  arms,  in  par 
ticular,  which  had  been  instinctively  thrown  out  to  break  his 
fall,  were  found  to  be  greatly  swollen  and  suffering  from  the 
worst  form  of  ecchymosis,  an  alternation  of  red  and  livid  spots ; 
and  he  complained  of  sharp  pains,  not  only  that  day,  but  for 
several  successive  days,  through  all  his  joints.  The  accident, 
indeed,  was  very  serious,  and  greatly  aggravated  his  old  com- 
plaints ;  but  by  the  20th  of  May  he  had  so  far  recovered,  that 
he  rode  to  Boston  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  his  physician.  It 
w.a§  during  that  visit,  after  consulting  with  Dr.  Jeffries  and  Dr 


J'ARTIAL    RECOVERT.  445 

Maso  i  Warren,  that  he  was  urged  and  prevailed  \  pon  to  meet 
his  fellow-citizens  of  Boston  in  some  public  place ;  and  accord 
ingly,  on  the  24th  of  May,  though  still  suffering  greatly  from 
a  combination  of  all  his  difficulties,  which  had  prostrated  his 
strength  and  broken  down  his  spirits,  he  appeared  in  Faneuil 
Hall  before  an  immense  gathering  of  the  people,  among  whom, 
arrayed  on  seats  left  vacant  for  them,  were  the  members  of 
the  general  conference  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  church,  who 
happened  to  be  holding  their  quadrennial  session  in  the  city. 
Mr.  Webster  evidently  intended  to  make  no  exertion  in  his 
address  on  this  occasion;  a  due  regard  to  the  state  of  his  health, 
which  was  plainly  uppermost  in  his  mind,  would  not  suffer 
him  to  speak  with  anything  like  his  usual  animation  ;  his  voice 
was  so  low  and  feeble,  in  the  utterance  of  more  than  half  his 
sentences,  that  it  was  nearly  impossible  for  those  not  accus-. 
tomed  to  listen  to  him  to  hear  enough  to  keep  up  the  thread 
of  his  observations ;  but,  when  read  in  the  public  prints  that 
evening,  the  speech  was  found  to  be,  though  on  no  particular 
subject,  a  series  of  very  beautiful  remarks,  congratulatory  and 
conversational,  tastefully  adapted  to  the  time  and  place,  and 
expressed  in  that  clear,  correct,  easy  style  so  characteristic  of 
all  his  minor  efforts.  It  proved  to  be  his  last  speech  in  that 
hall  which  his  eloquence  had  made  memorable  over  all  civ- 
ilized countries. 

Having  recovered  so  far  as  to  admit  of  his  return  to  Wash- 
ington, he  remained  at  his  post  of  duty,  though  in  great  and 
growing  feebleness  of  body,  till  the  time  of  his  public  reception 
at  Boston  in  July,  a  day  of  great  triumph  to  him  and  to  his 
abiding  friends  politically,  but  a  day  to  have  been  avoided  by 
a  man  so  evidently  approaching,  unless  exceedingly  careful  of 
his  health,  that  final  illness  from  which  there  is  no  recovery. 
To  sustain  him  through  the  day  of  this  reception,  he  was  com- 
pelled to  take  medicine  very  freely,  under  the  advice  of  Dr. 
Jeffries ;  and  .when  that  day  was  over,  it  was  plain  enough  to 


440  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

every  practiced  observer,  that  he  would  never  be  able  to  on 
dure  the  turmoil  and  labors  of  another  like  it.  Still,  determined 
as  ever  to  do  his  work,  while  he  could  stand  or  sit,  he  was 
again  in  Washington  till  the  beginning  of  September,  when  he 
once  more  made  a  trip  of  recreation  and  health  to  Massachu- 
setts. While  passing  through  Baltimore,  he  took  a  cold,  which 
greatly  aggravated  the  disorder  of  his  bowels,  and  deranged  his 
general  health  materially  and  even  fundamentally.  On  the 
20th  of  September  he  drove  from  Marshfield  to  Boston  again 
to  consult  Dr.  Jeffries,  who  describes  the  appearance  of  his 
illustrious  patient,  at  this  time,  in  very  decisive  language  :  "It 
was  then  observed,"  says  the  physician,  in  an  article  published 
in  the  American  Journal  of  the  Medical  Sciences.  "  that  he  had 
lost  much  flesh,  which  gave  to  his  large  eyes  a  somewhat  un- 
natural appearance.  His  face  was  pale,  with  a  peculiar  sallow- 
ness ;  but  there  was  no  jaundice  at  this  or  any  other  time. 
He  rose  from  the  recumbent  posture  slowly  and  with  some 
apparent  difficulty  ;  and  he  had  the  aspect  of  a  very  sick  man. 
He  stated  that  he  had  been  more  than  usually  unwell  for  a 
week  or  more;  he  complained  of  uneasiness  on  the  left  side  of 
the  abdomen,  with  consequent  difficulty  of  lying  on  that  side ; 
there  was  sometimes  a  sense  of  tightness  across  the  lower  part 
of  the  abdomen.  The  bowels  were  still  loose,  but  not  quite  so 
irritable ;  the  appetite  was  wholly  gone ;  the  skin  was  com- 
monly very  dry ;  and  there  was  a  constant  dryness  of  the 
tongue  and  fauces,  with  much  thirst.  The  tongue  was  covered 
with  a  light  brown  coat ;  and  the  pulse  was  one  hundred  and 
six,  quite  full,  but  easily  compressed,  somewhat  jerking,  with 
four  intermissions  in  a  minute." 

On  the  next  day,  the  21st  of  September,  he  returned  to 
Marshfield,  where  he  was  to  abstain  from  all  mental  labor,  to 
avoid  all  bodily  fatigue,  to  make  his  morning  and  evening 
meal  of  toasted  bread  and  tea,  to  dine  on  a  light  portion  of 
animal  food  with  one  vegetable,  and  to  give  np  all  his  time  to 


PERIODS  OF  A  MAN'S  ILLNESS.  44"7 

rest  and  recreation.  He  went  home,  indeed,  with  a  very  clear 
idea  of  his  critical  condition.  At  the  time  of  his  visit  to  Dr. 
Jeffries,  in  the  month  of  September  of  the  previous  year,  he 
had  worn  that  peculiar  aspect  of  uneasiness  so  indicative  of  the 
mind's  first  doubt  respecting  the  probability  of  recovery  ;  and 
with  that  same  restless  cast  of  countenance,  aggravated  by  the 
more  serious  and  complicated  troubles  of  the  current  season, 
he  again  entered  his  house  hoping  for  the  best,  but  fearful, 
plainly  fearful,  of  the  result  that  did  actually  follow. 

There  are  two  periods  in  the  life  of  a  thinking  man,  when, 
in  respect  to  life  and  death,  he  experiences  no  uneasiness.  The 
first  is  when  he  is  in  such  a  state  of  sound  and  vigorous  health 
as  not  to  allow  of  his  dwelling,  with  any  degree  of  fixedness 
and  painfulness,  on  the  termination  of  his  existence ;  and  the 
last  is  that  brief  period  when  life  is  given  up,  when  the  mind 
has  settled  down  upon  the  certainty  of  the  near  approach  of 
dissolution,  and  when  hope  is  triumphant  over  the  last  enem) , 
or  despair  has  given  place  to  apathy.  The  middle  period  is 
the  period  of  unrest,  of  anxiety,  of  real  distress  of  mind.  It  is 
the  period  of  uncertainty,  of  doubt,  of  suspense,  when  there  is 
too  much  of  illness  to  insure  recovery,  and  too  much  of  health 
to  permit  of  yielding  to  death  without  a  struggle.  The  arrow 
has  touched  the  heart ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  tell  him  how 
far  it  penetrates.  To-day,  it  sticks  deep,  it  touches  upon  the 
springs  of  life,  and  the  soul  (not  without  hope,  indeed)  shud- 
ders as  it  looks  into  the  very  face  of  death.  To-morrow,  the 
shaft  is  loose,  it  nearly  jostles  from  its  place,  a  slight  touch  will 
almost  (but  not  quite,  alas  !)  extract  it  and  throw  it  off!  Now, 
the  arrow  is  deep  again,  not  quite  so  deep,  it  may  be  deeper; 
it  is  very  fast ;  but,  if  even  so,  it  has  been  so  before,  and  yet 
death  did  not  follow.  Now,  another  day,  though  sleep  has  in- 
tervened, though  unconsciousness  has  intervened,  though  beau 
tiful  and  pleasant  dreams  have  intervened — dreams  of  youth, 
and  health,  and  joyous  friends,  and  many  of  the  charming 


448 


WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 


scenes  stored  in  the  chambers  of  the  mind — the  mind  now  wakes 
to  consciousness  only  to  find  that  it  was  all  a  dream,  that  the 
arrow  is  there,  that  the  shaft  still  trembles  at  the  side,  deeper 
it  may  be,  perhaps  not  so  deep,  but  the  barb,  the  very  barb, 
of  the  arrow  is  felt  (possibly  it  is)  in  the  very  depths  within. 
Such  things  may  have  been  felt  before  by  those  who  afterwards 
revived  and  lived.  Possibly  this  may  not  have  been  the  case. 
Who  that  lives  can  decide  ?  Time  must  tell.  Only  time  can 
tell.  The  days,  the  weary  days,  go  on,  bringing  nothing  but 
uncertainty,  leaving  nothing  behind  but  doubt.  Wkh  the  pos- 
sibility of  death  so  near,  however,  how  the  mind  does  grapple 
at  times  with  the  great  questions,  which,  until  now,  it  has  ha- 
bitually sent  forward  to  a  future  day  ;  and  then,  the  next  mo- 
ment, it  does  brush  them  all  away  again  as  the  idle  fancies  of  a 
sick  man's  brain  : 

"Uncertainly ! 

Fell  demon  of   ar  fears !  the  human  soul, 
That  can  suppjrt  despair,  supports  not  theel  " 

During  this  period  of  conflict,  that  restless,  wandering  and 
longing  cast  of  countenance,  before  detected  in  the  expression 
of  Mr.  Webster,  still  remained  with  him,  after  his  return  to 
Marshfield.  Who  will  divulge  his  thoughts,  while  he  lies  upon 
that  bed,  or  walks  down  into  this  library,  where  he  is  not  al- 
lowed to  study,  or  wanders  about  the  halls  or  into  the  adjacent 
rooms,  looking  upon  the  pictured  faces  of  the  living  and  the 
dead,  or  gazes  through  the  windows  upon  his  fields,  or  ranges 
his  eye  along  his  familiar  haunts  down  to  the  very  shore  of 
the  great  ocean,  where  he  used  to  wander  and  to  walk  and 
muse  when  he  was  well  1  At  evening,  when  the  moon  came 
pouring  through  the  shutters,  when  all  was  still  and  quiet  ir 
his  house,  who  will  declare  what  were  his  reveries  of  the  past, 
how  he  dwelt  upon  or  forgot  the  present,  with  what  sentiments, 
what  certainty,  what  uncertainty,  what  thankfulness  or  regrets, 
what  hopes  or  fe«rs,  what  calm  trust  or  faithful  preparation,  he 


HIS    VIEWS    OF    LIFK    AND    DK  \TH.  449 

looked  out  upon  that  approaching  future,  that  other  future, 
where  what  is  fixed  is  fixed  forever  1  Afterwards,  when  the 
stars  were  out,  the  silent  stars,  that  seem  almost  to  think  as 
they  keep  up  the  vigils  of  the  night,  who  will  publish  and  make 
it  plain,  whether  he  gave  the  precious  hours  to  sleep,  or  spent 
them  in  thinking  of  the  magnificence  and  perfection  of  the  Cre- 
ator's works,  in  contemplation  of  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of 
his  providence,  in  drawing  hope  and  comfort  from  the  innu- 
merable tokens  of  his  love,  and  in  looking  through  the  thin 
vail  of  the  material  to  the  light  and  glory  of  the  immaterial 
and  eternal  ?  No  one  can  now  inform  the  world  in  relation  to 
these  things.  One  thing  only  is  certain.  Mr.  Webster  had 
always  been  a  thoughtful,  prudent,  far-seeing  man,  who  never 
neglected  the  future  for  the  present,  but  who  ever  inclined  to 
make  the  present  yield  to  the  demands  and  necessities  of  the 
future ;  and  he  has  left  no  room  to  doubt  whether,  long  before 
this  period  of  his  life  had  come,  he  had  not  pondered  often,  and 
pondered  deeply,  on  the  eternal  interests  of  man  after  he  passes 
this  mortal  state.  "  One  may  live,"  he  had  said,  in  speaking 
of  the  decease  of  a  dear  and  valued  friend,  Mr.  Justice  Story, — 
"one  may  live  as  a  conqueror,  a  king,  or  a  magistrate ;  but  he 
must  die  as  a  man.  The  bed  of  death  brings  every  man  to 
his  pure  individuality;  to  the  intense  contemplation  of  that 
deepest  and  most  solemn  of  all  relations,  the  relation  between 
the  creature  and  his  Creator.  Here  it  is  that  fame  and  re- 
nown cannot  assist  us ;  that  all  external  things  must  fail  to  aid 
us ;  that  even  friends,  affection,  and  human  love  and  devoted- 
ness,  cannot  succor  us." 

A  superficial  i  ian  may  write  such  things  without  feeling 
them.  A  man  like  Daniel  Webster  could  scarcely  do  it ;  and 
we  may  properly  apply  them  now  to  his  own  case,  and  listen 
to  him,  as  he  continues  to  speak,  in  the  language  he  had  used 
on  the  death  of  another  valued  friend,  of  the  experience  of 
one  like  himself  in  the  decline  and  near  the  termination  of  his 


450  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

life :  "  Political  eminence  and  professional  fame  fade  away 
and  die  with  all  things  earthly.  Nothing  of  character  is  really 
permanent  but  virtue  and  personal  worth.  These  remain. 
Whatever  of  excellence  is  wrought  into  the  soul  itself  belongs 
to  both  worlds.  Real  goodness  does  not  attach  itself  merely 
to  this  life ;  it  points  to  another  world.  Political  or  profes- 
sional reputation  cannot  last  forever ;  but  a  conscience  void 
of  offence  before  God  and  man  is  an  inheritance  for  eternity. 
Religion,  therefore,  is  a  necessary  and  indispensable  element 
in  any  great  human  character.  There  is  no  living  without  it. 
Religion  is  the  tie  which  connects  man  with  his  Creator,  and 
holds  him  to  his  throne.  If  that  tie  be  all  sundered,  all  bro- 
ken, he  floats  away,  a  worthless  atom  in  the  universe;  its 
proper  attractions  all  gone,  its  destiny  thwarted,  and  its  whole 
future  nothing  but  darkness,  desolation  and  death.  A  man 
with  no  sense  of  religious  duty  is  he  whom  the  Scriptures  de- 
scribe, in  such  terse  but  terrific  language,  as  living  'without 
God  in  the  world.'  Such  a  man  is  out  of  his  proper  being,  out 
of  the  circle  of  all  his  duties,  out  of  the  circle  of  all  his  happi- 
ness, and  away,  far,  far  away,  from  the  purposes  of  his  creation. 
"A  mind  like  Mr.  Mason's" — Jeremiah  Mason,  of  whom  he 
was  speaking —  "  active,  thoughtful,  penetrating,  sedate,  could 
not  but  meditate  on  the  condition  of  man  below,  and  feel  its 
responsibilities.  He  could  not  look  on  this  mighty  system, 

'This  universal  frame  thus  wondrous  fair,' 

without  feeling  that  it  was  created  and  upheld  by  an  Intel- 
ligence to  which  all  other  intelligences  must  be  responsible.  I 
am  bound  to  say,  that,  in  the  course  of  my  life,  I  never  met 
with  an  individual,  in  any  profession  or  condition  in  life,  who 
always  spoke,  and  always  thought,  with  such  awful  reverence 
of  the  power  and  presence  of  God.  No  irreverence,  no  light- 
uess,  even  no  too  familiar  allusion  to  God  and  his  attributes, 
ever  escaped  his  lips.  The  very  notion  of  a  Supreme  Being 


REMARKS    OF    MR.  HILLARD.  451 

was,  with  him,  made  up  of  awe  and  sublimity.  It  filled  the 
whole  of  his  great  mind  with  the  strongest  emotions.  A  man 
like  him,  with  all  his  proper  sentiments  and  sensibilities  alive 
in  him,  must,  in  this  state  of  existence,  have  something  to  be- 
lieve and  something  to  hope  for  ;  or  else,  as  life  is  advancing 
to  its  close  and  parting,  all  is  heart-sinking  and  oppression. 
Depend  upon  it,  whatever  may  be  the  mind  of  an  old  man, 
old  age  is  only  really  happy,  when,  on  feeling  the  enjoyments 
of  this  world  pass  away,  it  begins  to  lay  a  stronger  hold  on 
those  of  another." 

While  lying  upon  this  bed  of  sickness,  doubtful  of  the  result 
before  him,  though  giving  his  great  thoughts  mainly,  without 
doubt,  to  the  eternal  and  incomprehensible  interests  of  the  soul, 
Mr.  Webster  was  by  no  means  neglectful  of  the  present,  or 
of  those  high  duties  devolving  upon  him  as  the  first  cabinet 
officer  of  the  republic.  "Here,  but  a  few  weeks  since,"  wrote 
Mr.  Hillard,  referring  to  this  painful  period,  "  Mr.  Webster 
was  accustomed  to  drive  the  transient  guest  over  his  estate,  vis- 
iting his  fields,  his  ocean  shore,  his  flocks,  and  his  herds ;  point- 
ing out  the  prospect,  and  speaking  with  tender  emotion  of  the 
sad  and  happy  memories  the  varied  views  recalled  ;  conversing 
with  the  rustic  neighbors  whom  he  chanced  to  meet,  in  kind 
and  genial  tones,  and  on  subjects  which  he  and  they  understood 
alike ;  uttering,  from  time  to  time,  glorious  thoughts,  suggested 
by  the  scene,  in  language  of  massive  beauty  and  grandeur, 
which  made  the  moment  memorable  in  the  listener's  life.  But 
this  has  been  in  some  measure  interrupted.  That- noble  form, 
that  surpassing  strength  of  constitution,  has  drooped  under  the 
protracted  illness  which  has  held  him  from  the  turmoil  raging 
outside  of  that  secluded  spot ;  the  drives  over  the  hills,  and 
•along  the  loud-resounding  sea,  which  he  loved  so  much,  have 
ceased.  Solemn  thoughts  exclude  from  his  mind  the  inferior 
topics  of  the  fleeting  hour ;  and  the  great  and  awful  themes  of 
the  future,  now  seemingly  open  before  him — themes  to  which 
VOL.  i.  29 


452  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

his  mind  has  always  and  instinctively  turned  its  profoundest  med- 
itations— now  fill  the  hours  won  from  the  weary  lassitude  of 
illness,  or  from  the  public  duties,  which  sickness  and  retirement 
cannot  make  him  forget  or  neglect.  The  eloquent  speculations 
of  Cicero  on  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  the  admirablt 
arguments  against  the  Epicurean  philosophy,  put  into  the  mouth 
of  one  of  the  colloquists,  in  the  book  on  the  nature  of  the  gods, 
share  his  thoughts  with  the  sure  testimony  of  'the  word  of  God. 
But  no  day  passes  that  the  affairs  of  the  country  do  not  oc- 
cupy his  attention.  His  great  mind  never  applied  itself  with 
a  calmer  or  more  comprehensive  grasp  to  the  duties  of  his  de- 
partment. The  intellectual  power  asserts  its  supremacy  over 
physical  weakness  and  tedious  disease,  with  an  unfaltering  en- 
ergy of  soul,  that,  in  itself,  is  a  stronger  argument  of  its  immor- 
tality, than  Cicero  ever  uttered  in  the  majestic  accents  of  the 
Latin  tongue.  These  are  the  dignified  pursuits  that  grace  the 
days  of  suffering  passed  by  the  illustrious  statesman  of  Marsh 
field.  The  respectful  sympathies  of  the  country  surround  him 
in  his  hours  of  illness ;  and  the  prayers  of  good  men  go  up 
to  heaven  for  his  speedy  restoration." 

There  is  no  doubt,  indeed,  that  the  nation  felt  a  concern  seldom 
experienced  by  a  whole  people  for  any  citizen ;  there  is  no 
doubt  that  prayers,  ardent  prayers,  went  up  daily  and  hourly 
to  a  merciful  God,  that  the  nation's  favorite  son  might  be  spared 
to  the  nation  a  little  longer ;  but,  in  the  midst  of  all  this  solici- 
tude, he  continued  gradually  to  decline,  growing  paler,  thinner, 
weaker,  with  each  day '.s  revolution.  "  He  was  aware  of  his 
decline,"  says  Mr.  Ticknor,  who  has  given  the  best  account  of 
his  last  sickness,  "  and  watched  it  with  careful  observation ; 
frequently  giving  intimations  to  those  nearest  to  him,  of  the 
failure  of  his  strength,  which  he  noticed,  and  of  the  result  whick 
he  apprehended  must  be  approaching.  Toward  the  end  of 
September,  he  seemed,  indeed,  to  rally  a  little  ;  but  it  was  soon 
apparent  to  others,  no  less  than  to  himself,  that,  as  the  days 


HE    WRITES    HIS    EPITAPH.  453 

passed  on,  each  brought  with  it  some  slight  proof  of  a  gradual 
decay  in  his  bodily  powers  and  resources. 

;'-  On  Sunday  evening,  October  10th,  he  desired  a  friend  who 
was  sitting  with  him,"  continues  Mr.  Ticknor,  "  to  read  to  hin: 
the  passage  in  the  ninth  chapter  of  St.  Mark's  gospel,  where 
the  man  brings  his  child  to  Jesus  to  be  cured,  and  the  Sav 
ior  tells  him,  '  If  thou  canst  believe  ;  all  things  are  possible 
to  him  that  believeth ;  and  straightway  the  father  of  the  chilo 
cried  out,  with  tears,  Lord,  I  believe;  help  thou  mine  unbe- 
lief.' '  Now,'  he  continued,  '  turn  to  the  tenth  chapter  of  St. 
John,  and  read  from  the  verse  where  it  is  said,  "  Many  of  tne 
Jews  believed  on  him."  '  After  this,  he  dictated  a  few  line* 
and  directed  them  to  be  signed  with  his  name,  and  dated 
Sunday  evening,  October  10th,  1852.  'This,'  he  then  added 
'  is  the  inscription  to  be  placed  on  my  monument.'  A  few 
days  later — on  the  loth — he  recurred  to  the  same  subject,  ana 
revised  and  corrected  with  his  own  hand,  what  he  had  earlier 
dictated,  so  as  to  make  the  whole  read  as  follows : 

'•'LORD,  I  BELIEVE;  HELP  THOU 
MINE  UNBELIEF." 

Philosophical 
argument,  especially 
that  drawn  from  the  vastness  of 
the  Universe,  in  comparison  with  the 
apparent  insignificance  of  this  globe,  has  some- 
times shaken  my  reason  for  the  faith  which  is  in  me ; 
but  my  heart  has  always  assured  and  reassured  me  that  til* 
Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  must  be  a  Divine  Reality.    The 
Sermon  on  the  Mount  cannot  be  a  merely  hu- 
man production.    This  belief  enters 
into  the  very  depths  of  my  con- 
science. The  whole  history 
of  man  proves  it. 

'DANIEL  WEBSTEB.1  n 

Such  a  scene  as  this,  such  a  record  as  this,  will  not  foil  \f 
have  its  weight  in  behalf*of  the  Christian  religion,  not  only  with 


454  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

all  thinking  men,  but  even  with  the  comparatively  thoughiless, 
as  long  as  the  scene  is  preserved  in  history,  as  long  as  the  rec- 
ord shall  stand  uneffaced  on  his  tomb-stone  of  granite,  or  on  his 
monument  of  marble.  Daniel  Webster,  the  most  intellectual 
man  of  recent  history,  the  profoundest  reason er  of  modern 
times,  near  the  end  of  his  days,  but  while  all  his  faculties  were 
in  their  full  vigor,  and  at  a  season  of  the  utmost  solemnity, 
gives  his  deliberate  testimony  to  the  truth  and  reality  of  reli- 
gion ;  and  yet,  there  are  hundreds  of  superficial  men,  as  shal- 
low as  he  was  deep,  who,  with  not  sense  enough  to  have  as- 
certained their  want  of  mind,  are  ready,  anywhere,  to  say  that 
they  look  upon  the  Bible  as  a  book  of  fables,  and  Christianity 
as  a  long-plotted  and  well-fabricated  lie.  Had  this  been  true, 
would  not  such  a  man  as  Daniel  Webster  have  been  likely, 
if  any  one,  to  detect  it  1  Through  his  whole  life,  on  the  con- 
trary, he  never  failed  to  give  his  whole  testimony  on  the  side 
of  practical  religion ;  and  now,  in  the  verv  lace  of  death,  he 
declares  a  belief  in  it,  which,  when  the  circumstances  are  all 
considered,  renders  it  equal  in  weight  to  any  testimony  ever 
given  by  a  man  not  inspired.  "  If  I  eet  we'l  "  said  he  to  his 
friend,  on  the  occasion  of  his  first  dictates  rnis  epitaph,  "  if  I 
get  well,  and  write  a  book  on  christianjry  aoout  which  we  have 
talked,  we  can  attend  more  fullv  to  this  matter.  But,  if  I 
should  be  taken  away  suddenly,  I  do  not  wish  to  leave  any 
duty  of  this  kind  unperformed.  I  want  to  leave,  somewhere, 
a  declaration  of  my  belief  in  christianitv."  Knowing,  even  in 
the  humble  hour  of  his  last  illness,  tnat  nis  nnai  opinions  upon 
this  subject  would  not  fail  to  have  great  autnority  among  men, 
he  hastens  to  give  a  formal  utterance  of  that  opinion,  and  or- 
ders this  solemn  declaration  of  his  faith  instead  of  the  events 
and  now  worthless  honors  of  his  life,  to  be  inscribed  where  it 
would  be  read  and  respected  as  long  as  any  regard  should  be 
paid  to  his  memory,  or  any  weight  of  authority  should  ba 
carried  in  his  name.  • 


LAST    WILL   AND    TESTAMENT.  455 

"  Warned  by  his  increasing  debility,"  continues  Mr.  Ticknor, 
"  he  had  already  given  some  directions  concerning  a  final  dis- 
position of-  his  worldly  affairs ;  but  he  now  desired  tha*  his 
will  might  be  immediately  drawn  up  in  legal  form,  and  the 
next  day,  he  dictated  a  considerable  portion  of  it  with  great 
precision  and  a  beautiful  appropriateness  of  phraseology." 
Mr.  Ticknor  is  undoubtedly  correct  in  regard  to  the  time,  as 
well  as  the  manner,  in  which  the  instrument  was  drawn  up ; 
but  all  the  published  copies  of  the  will  bear  the  date  of  the 
21st  of  September,  which,  in  this  volume,  has  been  changed 
to  that  of  the  21st  of  October,  which  is  indisputably  the 
true  date.  Whenever  made,  however,  that  last  will  and 
testament  of  Daniel  Webster  is  entirely  characteristic  of  his 
great  mind.  lie  scarcely  ever  did  anything  like  other  men ; 
and  yet  he  affected  novelty  in  nothing  he  performed.  There 
was  always  in  his  position,  or  in  the  circumstances  of  the  case 
where  he  was  called  to  act,  something  new,  something  original, 
something  that  had  never  occurred  before;  and  therefore,  as 
in  this  instance,  he  was  almost  always  called  upon  to  do  some- 
thing in  a  way  for  which  he  had  no  precedent.  This  will  is 
without  a  precedent :  it  is  so  perfectly  original,  and  yet  so 
beautifully  adapted  to  his  case,  that  it  must  ever  be  admired, 
as  a  model  of  its  kind  ;  nor  could  any  life,  however  cursory, 
of  the  great  statesman,  be  at  all  complete,  unless  it  put  into 
the  possession  of  the  reader,  word  for  word,  a  document  which, 
more  than  anything  he  ever  produced  in  so  small  a  compass, 
is  the  best  exhibit  of  his  worldly  condition,  and  the  most  con- 
summate image  and  emblem  of  his  life,  his  intellect,  and  his 
heart : 

44  IN    TUB  NAME    OF    ALMIGHTY    GOD  ! 

;'  L,  DANIEL  WEBSTER,  of  Marshfield,  in  the  county  of  Plym- 
outh, and  commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  Esquire,  being  now 
confined  to  my  house  with  a  serious  illness,  which,  considering 


456  WKBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

my  time  of  life,  is  undoubtedly  critical,  but  being  nevertJielew 
in  the  full  possession  of  my  mental  faculties,  do  make  and  pub- 
lish this,  my  last  will  and  testament : 

"  1  commit  my  soul  into  the  hands  of  my  Heavenly  Father, 
trusting  in  his  infinite  goodness  and  mercy. 

"  I  direct  that  my  mortal  remains  be  buried  in  the  family 
vault  at  Marshfield,  where  monuments  are  already  erected  to 
my  deceased  children  and  their  mother.  Two  places  are 
marked  for  other  monuments,  of  exactly  the  same  size  and 
form.  One  of  these,  in  proper  time,  is  for  me,  and  perhaps  I 
may  leave  an  epitaph.  The  other  is  for  Mrs.  Webster.  Her 
ancestors,  and  all  her  kindred,  lie  in  a  far  distant  city.  My 
hope  is,  that  after  many  years,  she  may  come  to  my  side,  and 
join  me  and  others  whom  God  hath  given  me. 

"  I  wish  to  be  buried  without  the  least  show  or  ostentation, 
but  in  a  manner  respectful  to  my  neighbors,  whose  kindness 
has  contributed  so  much  to  the  happiness  of  me  and  mine 
and  for  whose  prosperity  I  offer  sincere  prayers  to  God. 

"Concerning  my  worldly  estate,  my  will  must  be  anoma- 
lous and  out  of  the  common  form,  on  occount  of  the  state  of 
my  affiiirs.  1  have  two  large  real  estates.  By  marriage  set- 
tlement, Mrs.  Webster  is  entitled  to  a  life  estate  in  each,  and 
after  her  death,  they  belong  to  my  heirs.  On  the  Franklin 
estate,  so  far  as  I  know,  there  is  no  incumbrance  except  Mrs. 
Webster's  life  estate.  On  Marshfield,  Mr.  Samuel  Frothing, 
ham  has  an  unpaid  balance  of  a  mortgage,  now  amounting  to 
twenty -five  hundred  dollars.  My  great  and  leading  wish  is,  to 
preserve  Marshfield,  if  I  can,  in  the  blood  and  name  of  my 
own  family.  To  this  end,  it  must  go  in  the  first  place  to  my 
son,  Fletcher  Webster,  who  is  hereafter  to  be  the  immediate 
prop  of  my  house,  and  the  general  representative  of  my  name 
and  character.  I  have  the  fullest  confidence  in  his  affection  and 
good  sense,  and  that  he  will  heartily'  concur  in  anything  that 
appears  to  be  for  the  best. 


CONTINUATION    OF    THE    WILL.  457 

"  I  do  not  see,  under  present  circumstances  of  him  and  his 
family,  how  I  can  now  make  a  definite  provision  for  the  future 
beyond  his  life ;  I  propose,  therefore,  to  put  the  property  into 
the  hands  of  trustees,  to  be  disposed  of  by  them,  as  exigencies 
may  require. 

"  My  affectionate  wife,  who  has  been  to  me  a  source  of  so 
much  happiness,  must  be  tenderly  provided  for.  Care  must 
be  taken  that  she  has  some  reasonable  income.  I  make  this 
will  upon  the  faith  of  what  has  been  said  to  me  by  friends, 
of  means  which  will  be  found  to  carry  out  my  reasonable 
wishes.  It  is  best  that  Mrs.  Webster's  life  interest  in  the 
two  estates  be  purchased  out.  It  must  be  seen  what  can 
be  done  with  friends  at  Boston,  and  especially  with  the  con- 
tributors to  my  life  annuity.  My  son-in-law,  Mr.  Appleton, 
has  generously  requested  me  to  pay  little  regard  to  his  inter- 
ests, or  to  those  of  his  children,  but  I  must  do  something,  and 
enough  to  manifest  my  warm  love  and  attachment  to  him  and 
them.  The  property  best  to  be  spared  for  the  purpose  of  buy- 
ing  out  Mrs  Webster's  life  interest  under  the  marriage  settle- 
ment,  is  Franklin,  which  is  very  valuable  property,  and  which 
may  be  sold  under  prudent  management,  or  mortgaged  for  a 
considerable  sum. 

"I  have  also  a  quantity  of  valuable  land  in  Illinois,  at  Peru» 
which  ought  to  be  immediately  seen  after.  Mr.  Edward  Curtis 
and  Mr.  Blatchford  and  Mr.  Franklin  Haven  know  all  about 
my  large  debts,  and  they  have  undertaken  to  see  at  once 
whether  those  can  be  provided  for,  so  that  these  purposes  may 
probably  be  carried  into  effect. 

"  With  these  explanations,  I  now  make  the  following  pro- 
visions, namely : 

"  ITEM.  I  appoint  my  wife  Caroline  Le  Roy  Webster,  my 
son  Fletcher  Webster,  and  R.  M.  Blatchford,  Esquire,  of 
New  York,  to  be  the  executors  of  this  will.  I  wish  my  said 
executors,  and  also  the  trustees  hereinafter  named,  in  all  things 


458  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

relating  to  finance  and  pecuniary  matters,  to  consult  with  my 
valued  friend,  Franklin  Haven ;  and  in  all  things  respecting 
Marshfield,  with  Charles  Henry  Thomas,  always  an  intimate 
friend,  and  one  whom  I  love  for  his  own  sake  and  that  of  his  fam- 
ily ;  and  in  all  things  respecting  Franklin,  with  that  true  man, 
John  Taylor ;  and  1  wish  them  to  consult  in  all  matters  of 
law,  with  my  brethren  and  highly  esteemed  friends,  Charles  P. 
Curtis,  and  George  T.  Curtis. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  devise  to  James  W.  Paige  and  Franklin 
Haven,  of  Boston,  and  Edward  Curtis,  of  New  York,  all  my 
real  estate  in  the  towns  of  Marshfield,  in  the  state  of  Massa- 
chusetts, and  Franklin,  in  the  state  of  New  Hampshire,  being 
the  two  estates  above  mentioned,  to  have  and  to  hold  the  same 
to  them  and  their  heirs  and  assigns  forever,  upon  the  following 
trusts,  namely : 

"  first.  To  mortgage,  sell,  or  lease  so  much  thereof  as  may 
be  necessary  to  pay  to  my  wife,  Caroline  Le  Roy  Webster, 
the  estimated  value  of  her  life  interest,  heretofore  secured  to 
her  thereon  by  marriage  settlement,  as  is  above  recited,  if  she 
shall  elect  to  receive  that  valuation  in  place  of  the  security  with 
which  those  estates  now  stand  charged. 

"  Secondly.  To  pay  to  my  said  wife  from  the  rents  and 
profits  and  income  of  the  said  two  estates,  the  further  sum  of 
five  hundred  dollars  per  annum  during  her  natural  life. 

"  Thirdly.  To  hold,  manage,  and  carry  on  the  said  two 
estates,  or  so  much  thereof  as  may  not  be  sold  for  the  pur 
poses  aforesaid,  for  the  use  of  my  son,  Fletcher  Webster,  du- 
ring his  natural  life,  and  after  his  decease,  to  convey  the  same 
in  fee  to  such  of  his  male  descendants  as  a  majority  of  the  said 
trustees  may  elect,  they  acting  therein  with  my  son's  concur- 
rence, if  circumstances  admit  of  his  expressing  his  wishes,  other, 
wise  acting  upon  their  own  discretion :  it  being  my  desire  that 
his  son  Ashburton  Webster  take  one,  and  his  son  Daniel  Web- 
ster, Jr.,  the  other  of  the  said  estates. 


CONTINUATDN    OF    THE   WILL.  459 

"!TEM.  I  direct  that  my  wife,  Caroline  Le  Roy  Webster 
nave,  and  I  hereby  give  to  her,  the  right  during  her  life,  to  re- 
side in  my  mansion  house,  at  Marshfield,  when  she  wishes  to 
do  so,  with  my  son,  in  case  he  may  reside  there,  or  in  his  ab- 
sence ;  and  this  I  do,  not  doubting  my  son's  affection  for  her 
or  for  me,  but  because  it  is  due  to  her  that  she  should  receive 
this  right  from  her  husband. 

"!TEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  the  said  James  W.  Paige, 
Franklin  Haven,  and  Edward  Curtis,  all  the  books,  plate,  pic- 
tures, statuary,  and  furniture,  and  other  personal  property  now 
in  my  mansion-house  at  Marshfield,  except  such  articles  as  are 
hereinafter  otherwise  disposed  of,  in  trust  to  preserve  the  same 
in  the  mansion-house  for  the  use  of  my  son,  Fletcher  Webster, 
during  his  life,  and  after  his  decease  to  make  over  and  deliver 
the  same  to  the  person  who  will  then  become  'the  owner  of 
the  estate  of  Marshfield,'  it  being  my  desire  and  intention  that 
they  remain  attached  to  the  house  while  it  is  occupied  by  any 
of  my  name  and  blood. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  said  wife  all  my  furniture 
which  she  brought  with  her  on  her  marriage,  and  the  silver 
plate  purchased  of  Mr.  Rush,  for  her  own  use. 

"  ITEM.  I  give,  devise,  and  bequeath  to  my  said  executors  all 
my  other  real  and  personal  estate,  except  such  as  is  hereafter 
described  and  otherwise  disposed  of,  to  be  applied  to  the  exe- 
cution of  the  general  purposes  of  this  will,  and  to  be  sold  and 
disposed  of,  or  held  and  used  at  Marshfield,  as  they  and  the 
said  trustees  may  find  to  be  expedient. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  son,  Fletcher  Webster, 
all  my  law  books,  wherever  situated,  for  his  own  use. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  son-in-law,  Samuel  A. 
Appleton,  my  California  watch  and  chain,  for  his  own  use. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  granddaughter,  Caroline 
Le  Roy  Appleton,  the  portrait  of  myself,  by  Healy,  which 
VOL.  i.  T 


460  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

now  hangs  in  the  south-east  parlor,  at  Marshfield,  for  ner  own 
uao. 

"  ITKM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  grandson,  Samuel  A. 
Appleton,  my  gold  snuff-box,  with  the  head  of  General  Wash- 
ton,  all  my  fishing  tackle,  and  my  Selden  and  Wilinot  guns,  for 
his  own  use. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  grandson,  Daniel  Web- 
ster Appleton,  my  Washigton  medals,  for  his  own  use. 

"  ITEM.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  granddaughter,  Julia 
Webster  Appleton,  the  clock  presented  to  her  grand  mother  by 
the  late  Hon.  George  Blake. 

"  ITEM.  I  appoint  Edward  Everett,  George  Ticknor,  Corne- 
lius Conway  Felton,  and  George  Ticknor  Curtis,  to  be  my  lit- 
erary executors ;  and  I  direct  my  son,  Fletcher  Webster,  to 
seal  up  all  my  letters,  manuscripts,  and  papers,  and  at  a  proper 
time  to  select  those  relating  to  my  personal  history,  and  my 
professional  and  public  life,  which  in  his  judgment  should  be 
placed  at  their  disposal,  and  to  transfer  the  same  to  them,  to 
be  used  by  them  in  such  manner  as  they  may  think  fit.  They 
may  receive  valuable  aid  from  my  friend,  George  J.  Abbott, 
Esq.,  now  of  the  state  department. 

"  My  servant,  William  Johnson,  is  a  free  man.  I  bought 
his  freedom  not  long  ago  for  six  hundred  dollars.  No  demand 
is  to  be  made  upon  him  for  any  portion  of  this  sum,  but  so 
long  as  is  agreeable,  I  hope  he  will  remain  with  the  family. 

"  ITEM.  Morricha  McCarty,  Sarah  Smith,  and  Ann  Bean, 
colored  persons,  now  also,  and  for  a  long  time  in- my  service, 
are  all  free.  They  are  very  well  deserving,  and  whoever  comes 
after  me  must  be  kind  to  them. 

"  ITEM.  I  request  that  my  said  executors  and  trustees  be 
not  required  to  give  bonds  for  the  performance  of  their  respect- 
ive duties  under  this  will. 

"  hi  testimony  whereof,  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  and 
seal,  at  Marshfield,  and  have  published  and  declared  this  to  be 


A   FATAL   SYMPTOM.  461 

my  last'  will  and  testament,  on  the  twenty-first  day  of  Octo- 
ber in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  eighteen  hundred  and  fifty-two. 
"[Signed.]"  DANIEL  WEBSTER." 

After  the  will  had  been  prepared,  it  was  laid  aide  to  be  ex- 
ecu  .ed  the  next  day ;  but,  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day, 
Mr.  Webster  suffered  from  a  new  and  alarming  symptom, 
warning  him  to  do  quickly  whatever  was  yet  not  done.  A 
large  quantity  of  blood  issued  suddenly  from  his  stomach. 
Fixing  an  "intensely  scrutinizing  look"  upon  his  attending 
physician,  he  asked,  "  What  is  that  ? "  Being  told  that  it 
came  from  the  diseased  part,  "  with  the  same  piercing  look," 
and  with  a  change  of  accent,  he  repeated,  "  What  is  that  1 " 
That  piercing  look,  however,  had  penetrated  the  mystery  be- 
fore the  attending  physician  had  time  to  answer.  "  That  is  the 
enemy,"  said  Mr.  Webster,  "if  you  can  conquer  that" — but  a 
recurrence  of  the  symptom  hindered  him  from  saying  what 
then  might  be  his  encouragement.  As  soon  as  he  was  again 
easy,  he  had  his  will  brought  before  him.  He  would  not  exe- 
cute it,  however,  till  he  had  satisfied  himself  that  its  provisions 
were  perfectly  satisfactory  to  all  who  were  interested  in  it,  a 
prudent  forethought  scarcely  ever  exercised,  but  entirely  char- 
acteristic of  Mr.  Webster.  With  all  his  knowledge  of  the 
troubles  frequently  entailed  on  families  by  wills,  he  was  deter- 
mined to  entail  no  troubles  on  those  he  should  leave  behind 
him.  Having  thus  disposed  of  his  worldly  estate,  he  folded 
his  hands  together  and  said,  "  I  thank  God  for  strength  to  per- 
form a  sensible  act."  He  then  gave  himself  up  to  prayer. 
"  In  a  full  voice,"  says  Mr.  Ticknor,  "  and  with  a  most  rev- 
erential manner,  he  went  on  and  prayed  aloud  for  some  min- 
utes, ending  with  the  Lord's  prayer  and  the  ascription,  '  And 
now  unto  God,  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  be  praise 
forever  more.  Peace  on  earth  and  good  will  towards  men' — 
after  which,  clasping  his  hands  together,  as  at  first,  he  added 


462  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

with  great  emphasis,  '  That  is  the  happiness — the  essence — 
good  will  towards  men." 

He  now  requested  all  in  the  room  to  leave  it,  excepting  Dr. 
Jeffries  and  a  colored  nurse,  that  he  might  obtain  a  little  sleep. 
When  alone  with  these  two,  he  said  to  his  physician,  "  Doctor, 
you  look  sober.  You  think  I  shall  not  be  here  in  the  morn- 
ing, but  I  shall.  /  shall  greet  the  morning  light."  The  next 
day,  thinking  that  the  doctor  looked  sad,  he  again  said,  "Cheer 
up,  doctor — cheer  up — I  shall  not  die  to-day.  You  will  get 
me  along  to-day"  He  continued  through  Friday  very  much 
in  the  same  way,  giving  consolation  to  others,  instead  of  mani- 
festing any  signs  of  his  needing  consolation  or  sympathy  him- 
self. There  is  no  doubt,  that,  in  his  own  mind,  he  had  that 
consolation  which  no  man  can  give  or  take  away.  "  On  the 
morning  of  the  23d,"  which  was  Saturday,  "  he  announced  him- 
self" says  Dr.  Jeffries,  "  conscious  of  his  situation,  and  said, 
'/  shall  die  to-night.'" 

The  concluding  scene  was  now  rapidly  approaching.  Dr.  J.  M. 
Warren  was  sent  for  from  Boston,  as  a  relief  to  Dr.  Jeffries, 
who  had  been  constantly  with  Mr.  Webster  for  more  than  a 
whole  week  ;  and  Mr.  Webster  gave  all  the  directions  to  the 
messenger,  with  every  minute  particular  of  the  duty  to  be  per- 
formed, as  he  would  have  done  in  perfect  health.  After  enjoying 
another  short  season  of  repose,  he  had  his  wife,  and  son,  and  the 
other  members  of  his  family  called  in,  with  whom  he  conversed 
most  tenderly  and  yet  plainly  on  the  great  subjects  of  religion, 
assuring  them,  without  a  change  of  countenance,  and  without 
expressing  any  unusual  emotion,  that  his  end  was  near.  Late 
in  the  day,  having  probably  noticed  some  decided  mark  of 
progress  in  his  disease,  he  again  called  in  his  friends  to  give 
them  his  final  blessing.  "  After  nightfall,"  says  Mr.  Ticknor, 
"  he  received  at  his  bedside  each  member  of  his  family  and 
household,  the  friends  gathered  under  his  roof,  and  the  servants, 
most  of  whom  having  been  long  in  his  service  had  become  tc 


WISHES  TO  COMPREHEND  DEATH. 

him  as  faithful  and  affectionate  friends.  It  was  a  solemn  and 
religious  parting,  in  which,  while  all  around  hnn  were  over- 
whelmed with  sorrow,  he  preserved  his  accustomed  equanim- 
ity, speaking  to  each  words  of  appropriate  kindness  and  conso- 
lation which  they  will  treasure  hereafter  among  their  most  pre- 
cious and  life-long  possessions." 

Having  performed  all  these  duties  to  the  living,  and  hnving 
without  any  doubt  settled  and  fixed  his  relations  satisfactorily 
with  God,  he  now  seemed  to  enter  into  the  work  of  death,  if 
these  words  can  express  the  thought,  as  no  other  man  has  done 
of  whom  history  gives  any  clear  account.  Socrates,  when  dy- 
ing, conversed  with  his  friends  about  immortality  and  the  fu- 
ture life.  Triumphant  Christians  usually  die  with  exclamations 
of  joy  over  their  consciousness  of  deliverance  from  an  evil 
world  and  their  immediate  entrance  into  a  felicity  ineffable  and 
eternal.  Mr.  Webster,  as  original  in  death  as  ne  had  always 
been  in  life,  after  having  closed  up  the  past  and  provided  for 
the  future,  appeared  now  to  give  himself  exclusively  to  the  ex- 
perience of  the  present.  He  seemed  to  wAteh,  with  all  his 
great  powers  of  mind,  each  passing  moment,  r.nd  note  each  re- 
mo^e  he  made  toward  the  final  goal.  A  celebrated  philoso- 
pher once  held  himself  immersed  in  water,  that  he  might  learn 
the  first  sensations  of  a  drowning  man ;  and  another,  equally 
celebrated  and  equally  curious,  stood  in  a  receiver  while  the 
air  was  gradually  taken  from  it  by  an  air-pump,  because,  for 
some  philosophical  reason,  he  wished  to  know  the  experience 
of  one  dying,  or  rather  beginning  to  die,  by  a  want  of  breath. 
These  persons,  however,  expected  not  to  die,  but  to  be  rescued 
at  the  proper  time.  They  could,  therefore,  go  coolly  to  their 
experiments.  Here  is  a  man,  on  the  contrary,  who  desired  to 
learn  all  the  feelings  of  a  person,  not  in  a  few  of  the  first  mo- 
ments of  a  stoppage  of  vitality,  but  in  the  very  act  of  dying, 
and  through  the  whole  gloomy  process  and  progress  of  that  act 
to  the  very  last.  He  is  making  no  experiment,  no  feint,  soon 


464  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

to  be  relinquished.  Nor,  like  the  classic  poets,  who,  in  imagi 
nation,  had  described  the  passage  of  the  soul  to  the  other  world, 
was  he  throwing  himself  into  any  unreal  state  of  fancy.  All 
was  real,  actual,  solemn  fact.  He  was  actually  dying ;  and, 
as  no  one  but  a  dying  man  can  know  how  one  dies,  and  as  his 
first  and  last  opportunity  of  obtaining  this  knowledge  was  then 
with  him,  he  resolved  to  embrace  that  opportunity  to  the  ut- 
most. This  remarkable  resolution  could  have  been  taken  with 
no  view  of  communicating  the  results  of  it  to  his  fellow-crea, 
tures.  All  he  could  expect  from  what  he  might  thus  learn  of 
the  soul's  leave-taking  of  the  body  was,  that  the  mind  would 
carry  its  knowledge  with  it  into  the  world  he  was  about  to  en- 
ter. Of  the  millions  of  the  human  family  who  had  died,  per- 
haps no  one  had  ever  carried  any  perfect  recognition  of  this 
final  act  into  the  future  state;  and  it  is  possible  that  Mr.  Web- 
ster may  have  conceived  the  original  and  sublime  thought  of 
being  the  bearer  of  this  new  knowledge  into  that  pure,  intel- 
lectual world  of  which  he  was  so  soon  to  become  an  inhabi- 
tant. It  is  more  probable,  however,  even  if  such  a  conception 
may  have  flashed  upon  his  mind,  that  the  great  motive  of  the 
act  was  simply  his  original,  irrepressible,  undecaying,  and  un- 
dying thirst  for  knowledge.  It  was  his  love  of  truth  ;  and,  cer- 
tainly, as  no  man  had  ever  given  greater  evidences  of  the 
strength  of  this  ruling  propensity  in  life,  so  no  man  ever  gave 
to  it  so  glorious  an  exhibition  in  the  hour  and  article  of  death. 
"  From  the  morning  of  Saturday,"  says  Mr.  Ticknor,  "  when 
he  had  announced  to  his  attendant  physician — what  nobody, 
until  that  time,  had  intimated — that  'he  should  die  that  night,' 
the  whole  strength  of  his  great  faculties  seemed  to  be  directed 
to  obtain  for  him  a  plain  and  clear  perception  of  his  onward 
passage  to  another  world,  and  of  his  feelings  and  condition  at 
the  precise  moment,  when  he  should  be  entering  its  confines. 
Once;  being  faint,  he  asked  if  he  were  not  then  dying  ;  and,  oc 
being  answered  that  he  was  not,  but  that  he  was  near  to  death, 


HIS    LAST    WORDS.  405 

he  repliel  simply,  'well'  as  if  the  frank  and  exact  reply  were 
what  he  desired  to  receive.  A  little  later,  when  his  kind  phy- 
sician repeated  to  him  that  striking  text  of  Scripture — 'Yea, 
though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will 
fear  no  evil,  for  thou  art  with  me,  thy  rod  and  thy  staff,  they 
comfort  me,'  he  seemed  less  satisfied,  and  said,  'Yes — but  the 
fact — the  fact  I  want,'  desiring  to  know  if  he  were  to  regard 
these  words  as  an  intimation  that  he  was  already  within  that 
dark  valley.  On  another  occasion,  he  inquired  whether  it  were 
likely  that  he  should  again  eject  blood  from  his  stomach  before 
death,  and,  being  told  that  it  was  improbable,  he  asked,  'Then 
what  shall  you  do  ? '  Being  answered  that  he  would  be  sup- 
ported by  stimulants,  and  rendered  as  easy  as  possible  by  the 
opiates  that  had  suited  him  so  well,  he  inquired  at  once  if  the 
stimulants  should  not  be  given  immediately,  anxious  again  to 
know  if  the  hand  of  death  were  not  already  upon  him.  And, 
on  being  told  that  it  would  not  be  then  given,  he  replied, 
'  When  you  give  it  to  me,  I  shall  know  that  I  may  drop  off  at 
once.'  Being  satisfied  on  this  point,  and  that  he  should,  there- 
fore, have  a  final  warning,  he  said,  a  moment  afterwards,  'I 
will,  then,  put  myself  in  a  position  to  obtain  a  little  repose.' 
In  this  he  was  successful.  He  had  intervals  of  rest  to  the  last ; 
but  on  rousing  from  them,  he  showed  that  he  was  still  intensely 
anxious  to  preserve  his  consciousness,  and  to  watch  for  the  mo- 
ment and  act  of  his  departure,  so  as  to  comprehend  it.  Awa- 
king from  one  of  these  slumbers,  late  in  the  night,  he  asked 
distinctly  if  he  were  alive,  and,  on  being  assured  that  he  was, 
and  that  his  family  was  collected  around  his  bed,  he  said,  in  a 
perfectly  natural  tone,  as  if  assenting  to  what  had  been  told 
him,  because  he  himself  perceived  that  it  was  true,  '/  still 
live'  These  were  his  last  coherent  and  intelligible  words.  At 
twenty-three  minutes  before  three  o'clock,  without  a  struggle 
01  a  groan,  all  signs  of  life  ceased  to  be  visible,  his  vital  organs 
giving  way  at  last  so  slowly  and  gradually  as  to  indicate — 


466  WEBSTER    AND    HIS   MASTER-PIECES. 

what  everything  during  his  illness  had  already  shown — that  his 
mtelloctual  and  moral  faculties  still  maintained  an  extraor- 
mnary  mastery  amidst  the  failing  resources  of  his  physica. 
constitution." 


Reader,  thus  lived  and  thus  passed  away  from  earth  a  man, 
who,  for  all  time  to  come,  is  to  hold  his  rank,  not  with  those 
of  his  countrymen  with  whom  he  happened  to  be  associated  in 
life,  but  with  the  most  illustrious  men  that  have  had  an  exist- 
ence in  the  world.  Centuries  from  this  day,  when  not  only  the 
few  that  misunderstood  but  the  many  who  appreciated  and 
loved  him  shall  be  forgotten,  his  name  is  to  stand  in  the  list 
where  such  names  as  Moses  and  Lycurgns,  Solon  and  Cicero, 
Burke  and  Bacon,  Wilberforce  and  Washington,  are  recorded. 
Ages  from  this  date,  when  the  youth  of  this  republic,  if,  hap- 
pily, the  republic  he  twice  saved  shall,  find  other  saviors  to 
preserve  it,  shall  read  the  history  of  the  first  century  of  their 
country,  next  to  that  of  George  Washington,  no  name  will  be 
so  well  known,  or  hold  so  high  a  place,  as  the  name  of  Daniel 
Webster.  Ages  and  centuries  hence,  when  future  senates, 
again  vexed  by  internal  discords,  shall  seek  to  know  how  to 
maintain  with  national  integrity  the  integrity  of  the  nation,  they 
will  at  once  recur,  as  to  a  store-house  of  political  wisdom,  to 
the  still  surviving  works  of  the  first  and  ablest  of  this  century's 
statesmen ;  and  in  that  far-off  period,  and  through  every  sue 
ceeding  period  of  our  existence  as  a  country,  the  students  of  a 
thousand  liberal  institutions,  devoted  to  science,  the  arts,  and 
the  professions,  will  be  as  familiar  with  his  master-pieces  as 
the  students  of  this  generation  are  with  those  of  the  Greek,  Ro- 
man, and  British  orators.  Nay,  more,  as  republics,  like  other 
governments,  have  their  life  and  their  decay,  so  when  the  union 
of  these  states  shall  have  come  to  its  natural  dissolution  when 


REVIEW    OF  '  HIS    LIFE.  467 

its  history  shall  have  receded  so  far  back  as  to  be  reckoned 
with  the  present  antiquities  of  the  earth,  then  the  American? 
who  shall  stand  upon  this  soil,  as  the  modern  Greeks  now 
stand  upon  the  soil  of  their  great  ancestors,  shall  look  backward 
upon  the  few  names  which  history  or  tradition  shall  have  saved 
from  the  general  wreck  ;  and  then,  whatever  names  shall  have 
gone  to  oblivion,  never  to  be  recovered,  never  to  be  recalled, 
never  to  be  pronounced  again,  of  whom  there  will  be  many 
now  known  to  fame,  among  the  few  that  do  not  die,  and  as  im- 
mortal as  any  of  the  number,  will  the  name  of  Daniel  Webster 
stand,  still  recorded,  still  read,  still  revered,  becoming  more 
memorable  and  more  imperishable  with  the  lapse  of  time : 
"  All  of  Agricola  that  gained  our  love,  and  raised  our  admira- 
tion, still  subsists,  and  will  ever  subsist,  preserved  in  the  minds 
of  men,  the  register  of  ages,  and  the  lists  of  fame  ! " 

Such  having  been  the  life  of  Daniel  Webster,  and  such  being 
the  position  he  holds  and  is  to  hold  in  coming  time,  it  is  not 
expedient  to  close  this  record  without  looking  back  upon  him, 
without  casting  some  reflections  on  the  singular  character  and 
import  of  his  life,  and  without  drawing  such  instructions  from 
it  as  it  is  so  capable  of  furnishing,  and  will  not  fail  to  furnish, 
to  the  more  penetrating  and  thoughtful  of  mankind. 

In  entering  upon  such  a  review,  it  will  be  at  once  evident, 
that  a  single  quality  of  mind,  or  a  single  trait  of  character,  if 
developed  largely  and  made  very  prominent,  is  generally  suf 
Sclent  to  give  to  ordinary  great  men  a  title  to  their  reputation, 
but  that  many  qualities,  and  many  traits,  with  every  attribute  of 
his  being,  in  fact,  have  to  be  examined  and  accounted  for,  in  ma 
king  up  the  character  of  such  an  extraordinary  man  as  Daniel 
Webster. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Dr.  Franklin,  as  the  representa- 
tive of  his  class  of  men,  was  considered  great,  and  received  great 
applause  from  his  cotemporaries,  for  having  the  energy  and  the 
genius  to  overcome  and  rise  above  the  obscurity  and  poverty 
VOL.  i.  T*  30 


468  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

of  his  origin.  In  this  respect,  Daniel  Webster  was  equally 
great,  as  is  seen  by  a  brief  recapitulation  of  the  successive  pe- 
riods  of  his  life  from  youth  to  manhood.  In  the  year  1782, 
he  is  born  at  Salisbury,  on  the  banks  of  the  Merrimac,  and  on 
the  northern  frontier  of  New  Hampshire.  His  father,  Ebene- 
zer  Webster,  is  the  owner  of  a  farm  large  enough,  it  might  be 
imagined,  to  have  made  him  and  his  family  independent.  But 
a  thousand  acres  of  wild,  woody,  rocky,  and  nearly  barren  ter- 
ritory, as  is  that  portion  of  New  Hampshire,  is  not  enough  to 
raise  them  above  hard  labor,  and  the  want  of  what  are  since  the 
most  ordinary  comforts.  The  household  is  very  large  and  ex- 
pensive. The  father,  the  mother,  and  all  the  children,  are  work- 
ing people,  and  toil  hard  in  the  heat  and  in  the  cold,  to  procure 
from  their  sterile  acres  their  daily  bread.  The  country  is  new, 
the  republic  is  just  beginning  ;  and  there  are  no  such  chances 
as  have  since  existed  to  take  advantage  of  changing  circumstan- 
ces and  make  sudden  fortunes.  From  the  day  of  his  birth  till 
he  leaves  his  father's  residence,  the  youthful  Web.ster  sees  no- 
thing around  him,  nor  before  him,  but  a  partially  reclaimed  wil- 
derness and  constant  labor.  When  he  arrives  at  an  age  that  fits 
him  to  begin  to  learn  the  rudiments  of  an  education,  the  sum- 
mer has  to  be  spent  in  work,  and  the  school  is  too  distant,  and 
the  snows  of  winter  too  deep,  to  admit  of  his  walking  or  going 
to  it.  His  mother,  a  noble  woman,  is  his  only  teacher.  Stand- 
ing by  her  knee,  he  acquires  those  first  lessons,  that  ripen  after- 
ward into  such  various  and  deep  knowledge.  When  older,  and 
large  enough  to  brave  the  horrors  of  a  northern  winter,  a  few 
weeks  annually,  during  this  inhospitable  season,  are  all  the  time 
allowed  him  to  cultivate  his  faculties.  These  are  all  the  advanta- 
ges he  has  for  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  till  about  his  four- 
teenth year,  when  his  father,  in  consideration  of  the  general  fee- 
bleness of  his  son's  health,  and  the  promise  of  his  mind,  gives 
him  a  larger  portion  of  his  time  for  study.  The  moment  he  is 
released  from  manual  labor,  it  is  seen  at  once  what  is  the  spirit 


SUMMARY    OF    HIS    LIFE.  469 

of  the  youth,  and  what  he  is  capable  of  performing.  In  a  few 
short  months  from  the  time  of  his  release,  he  is  prepared  foi 
college.  At  the  age  of  fifteen,  he  enters  the  Freshman  class  at 
Dartmouth  ;  and  from  that  hour  till  the  day  of  his  graduation, 
he  is  noted  as  the  hardest  student  of  the  institution.  By  adhe- 
ring exclusively  to  his  books,  and  by  refusing  to  spend  his  time 
in  outward  displays  and  public  performances,  he  makes  himself 
the  deepest,  though  not  the  most  showy,  scholar  of  his  class. 
The  foundation  being  thus  laid,  when  he  goes  out  to  take  his  part 
in  active  life,  he  is  ready  for  anything  that  offers,  and  takes  pros- 
perity by  the  forelock,  and  success  by  storm.  Being  considera- 
bly in  debt,  and  not  too  proud  to  work,  he  tramps  on  foot  to  the 
state  of  Maine,  takes  the  academy  of  Fryeburg  for  a  very  small 
salary,  but  saves  the  whole  of  it  by  writing  in  the  clerk's  office 
to  pay  his  board.  Having  thus  paid  off  his  debts,  he  commences 
the  study  of  the  law,  getting  his  instruction  where  he  can,  some- 
times studying  by  his  father's  fireside,  sometimes  in  the  office 
of  Mr.  Thompson,  of  his  native  place,  and  for  a  short  time  under 
the  oversight  of  Christopher  Gore,  of  Massachusetts.  Soon 
after  his  admission  to  the  bar,  he  removes  to  the  city  of  Ports- 
mouth, then  the  chief  city  of  his  state,  and  commences  practice 
by  the  side  of  such  men  as  Jeremiah  Mason,  whose  fame  is  al- 
most universal,  but  with  a  resolution  to  conquer  a  place  and 
master  his  position,  whatever  or  whoever  may  surround  him. 
The  work  is  soon  done.  For  nine  years,  which  are  the  years 
of  his  stay  at  Portsmouth,  though  a  young  man,  he  stands  first 
at  the  bar  of  New  Hampshire,  and  commands  a  willing  or  an  un- 
willing deference  from  the  oldest  and  ablest  lawyers  to  the  extent 
and  depth  of  his  legal  learning,  and  to  the  matchless  strength 
and  compass  of  his  mind.  So  entirely  does  he  conquer  his  po- 
sition, that,  at  the  close  of  these  nine  years,  when  he  becomes 
a  candidate  for  a  seat  in  congress,  out  of  a  constituency  of  sev 
eral  thousani,  he  easily  obtains  a  very  clear  majority.  In  1816 
he  removes  to  Boston,  and,  in  the  following  year,  makes  ^13 


470  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

celebrated  plea  on  the  Dartmouth  College  case,  which  is  never 
to  be  forgotten  in  New  England,  and  which  carries  hi;n  high 
above  every  other  lawyer  in  that  Athens  of  America,  where 
there  is  to  be  found  some  of  the  best  legal  abilities  in  the  world. 
In  1820,  he  is  a  member  of  the  convention  that  revises  the 
constitution  of  his  adopted  state ;  and  his  statesmanship  is  so 
conspicuous  in  this  assembly,  that  the  leading  citizens  of  Bos- 
ton at  once  make  him  their  candidate  for  the  senate  of  the 
United  States.  Replying  that  "  he  has  had  enough  of  public 
life,"  he  declines  the  honor,  and  makes  every  exertion  to  pro- 
cure it  for  another  man.  But  the  admiration  and  confidence 
of  the  people  will  not  let  him  rest.  In  1822,  without  his  con- 
sent, and  contrary  to  his  wishes,  they  elect  him  to  the  house 
of  representatives,  where,  in  1824,  he  makes  his  speech  on  the 
Greek  revolution,  which  is  pronounced  in  England  to  be  the 
ablest  and  most  eloquent  since  the  days  of  Pitt.  In  the  suc- 
ceeding autumn,  he  is  again  put  in  nomination,  and  in  a  district 
of  jive  thousand  freemen,  he  receives  four  thousand  nine  hun- 
dred and  ninety  voles.  Two  years  afterwards,  the  compli- 
ment of  a  renomination  is  again  paid  him,  which  is  followed 
by  similar  results.  Forced  as  he  thus  sees  himself  from  the 
charms  of  private  life,  which  no  man  ever  desired  or  delighted 
in  more  than  he,  he  finally  yields  to  what  seems  to  be  his  des- 
tiny, and  gives  himself  up,  on  his  election  to  the  United  States 
senate,  in  1827,  to  the  great  work  which  his  admiring  country- 
men have  crowded  upon  his  hands.  As  a  senator,  he  serves 
his  country  for  twelve  consecutive  years,  leaving  the  senate- 
chamber  at  last,  in  1840,  at  the  call  of  President  Harrison, 
who  is  unwilling  to  undertake  the  duties  of  his  exalted  and  dif- 
ficult office,  without  having  the  experience,  the  wisdom,  the 
masterly  abilities  of  Webster  for  his  support.  In  1845,  he  re- 
turns to  his  seat  in  the  senate,  which  he  holds  till  18?  0,  when, 
on  the  death  of  General  Taylor,  he  is  again  summoned  by 
President  Fillmore  to  become  the  head  of  the  cabinet,  in  which 


THEORY    OF    GREATNESS.  471 

high  position  Le  remains  till  death.  During  all  these  years^ 
in  every  office  which  he  holds,  he  is  always  and  everywhere 
acknowledged  as  the  first  man.  As  a  lawyer  in  New  Hamp- 
shire, he  is  first ;  as  a  lawyer  in  Massachusetts,  he  is  first ;  as 
a  member  of  the  Massachusetts  constitutional  convention,  he  is 
first ;  as  a  representative  for  seven  years  at  Washington,  he  is 
first ;  as  a  senator,  for  seventeen  years,  at  home  and  abroad, 
he  is  constantly  recognized  as  first ;  as  secretary  of  state,  at  two 
critical  periods  in  the  nation's  history,  he  is  emphatically  first, 
not  more  than  two  of  his  predecessors  having  brought  to  the 
post  anything  like  his  abilities  as  a  statesman,  or  as  a  man  of 
mind.  For  twenty-five  years  of  his  public  life,  his  judgment 
deliberately  uttered  on  a  point  of  litigation,  or  of  legislation,  is 
almost  as  good  as  law.  The  country  more  than  once  waits, 
and  waits  anxiously,  for  his  opinion ;  and  a  single  epistle,  which 
falls  extemporaneously  from  his  pen,  is  known  to  pacify  belli- 
gerent nations,  and  a  speech  to  elevate  in  foreign  lands  the  price 
of  our  public  stocks.  Whether  in  office,  or  out  of  office,  he  is 
always,  during  this  quarter  of  a  century  in  particular,  the  mo- 
mentous, mighty  spirit  of  his  country,  who,  by  the  motion  of 
his  single  intellect,  frequently  sways  the  nation,  and  always 
commands  the  notice  of  the  world.  If  there  is  any  greatness, 
therefore,  to  be  attributed  to  Franklin,  and  to  men  of  his  class, 
because  they  have  the  energy  to  rise  from  humble  circumstan- 
ces, against  many  obstacles,  to  a  high  point  of  power  and 
honor  among  their  fellow  men,  then  that  greatness,  whatever 
it  is,  and  all  that  it  is,  is  to  be  ascribed  to  Daniel  Webster, 
who  began  in  obscurity,  but  closed  his  career  as  the  most  power 
ful  single  individual,  as  an  individual,  of  modern  times. 

In  the  earliest  ages,  the  world  resounded  with  the  fame  of 
Theseus,  of  Hercules,  and  of  Samson ;  and  in  every  period 
since,  as  well  as  in  the  present  period,  there  has  been,  as  there 
yet  is,  a  sect  of  thinkers,  whose  fundamental  maxim  is,  that  the 
body  is  the  basis  of  every  stvle  of  greatness.  They  differ,  it 


472  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

is  true,  in  the  manner  of  their  judgments.  Some  of  them  saj 
that  the  power  of  a  man's  mind  is  always  commensurate  with 
the  volume  of  his  brain.  Others,  in  addition  to  the  size  cf  this 
organ,  make  more  or  less  allowance  for  the  quality  of  its  tex- 
ture. Others,  not  so  exclusive  in  their  attention  to  the  brain, 
attribute  a  great  deal  of  consequence  to  the  temperaments,  to 
the  form  of  the  features,  and  to  the  general  aspect  of  the  per- 
son. With  some,  the  eye  is  everything.  To  others,  the  mouth 
is  the  chief  indicator  of  intellectual  and  moral  qualities.  A 
third  class,  attributing  to  the  heart  and  lungs  a  great  influence 
upon  the  action  of  the  whole  system,  the  nerves  and  brain  in- 
cluded, assert  that  a  capacious  head  on  a  narrow  trunk  is  less 
likely  to  be  distinguished  by  mental  greatness,  than  a  smaller 
head  on  a  trunk  well  developed,  and  roomy  enough  to  admit 
of  the  free  play  of  large  vital  organs.  All  these,  and  others 
that  might  be  mentioned,  are  but  variations  of  the  same  gene- 
ral theory  of  man,  which  sets  a  very  high  value,  if  not  the  high- 
est value,  on  the  size,  powers  and  possibilities  of  the  body  ;  and 
it  is  a  pertinent  fact,  and  worthy  of  record  and  recollection,  that, 
for  the  last  quarter  of  a  century,  every  division  and  sub-divis- 
ion of  this  class  of  men,  whatever  have  been  their  contradic- 
tions on  other  subjects,  and  whatever  changes  have  taken  place  in 
their  respective  standards  of  judging  of  human  characters,  have 
unanimously  and  invariably  settled  upon  Daniel  Webster,  as 
their  common  model.  And  certainly,  whatever  may  be  thought 
of  their  several  theories,  in  this  respect  they  have  not  mistaken. 
Seen  where  he  might  be,  whether  in  the  senate,  or  on  the  street, 
or  in  the  largest  gathering  of  the  people,  he  was  always  the 
most  magnificent  specimen  of  a  man,  present.  Others  might 
be  larger,  higher,  more  muscular,  but  none  in  every  way  so 
striking  and  so  perfect.  Though  not  monstrous  in  size,  he  was 
of  more  than  medium  height,  round  and  full  in  habit,  perfectly 
erect,  firm  and  strong  in  step,  and  entirely  satisfactory  to  tho 
most  fastidious  eye  for  the  regularity,  proportion  and  harmony 


PERSONAL    APPEARANNCE.  473 

of  his  featui  es.  His  movement  was  that  of  a  superior  being, 
unconscious,  or  thoughtless,  of  his  superiority.  When  sitting 
in  the  presence  of  an  assembly,  where  others  of  notoriety  cculd 
be  found  disposing  of  themselves  as  if  thoughtful  of  their  ap- 
pearance, and  perhaps  a  little  troubled  about  the  impression 
that  that  appearance  might  be  making  for  them,  he  sat  with  the 
most  absolute  unconcern,  without  a  motion  or  a  look  to  invite 
respect,  or  to  draw  attention.  Well  might  he  sit  thus  natu- 
rally and  easily,  for  nature  had  so  endowed  him,  that  no  effort 
of  his  own  could  have  added  anything  to  the  grandeur  of  his 
presence.  In  such  situations,  as  the  people  saw  him  but  sel- 
dom, all  eyes  were  always  riveted  upon  him,  whoever  else 
might  be  present;  and  every  one  made  him,  as  long  as  the  oc- 
casion would  admit,  a  study.  All  around,  in  every  part  of  the 
most  thronged  audiences — and  he  never  was  permitted  to  see 
a  small  one — half-suppressed  ejaculations  could  be  heard — 
"  what  an  eye  !  "  "  what  a  head  !  "  "  what  a  mouth  !  "  "  what 
a  countenance  !  "  "  what  a  presence  !  "  "  what  a  man  !  "  A 
philosopher  would  have  much  to  study  and  to  mark  about  him. 
He  would  see  that  the  great  man  was  most  compactly  built,  as 
if  his  powerful  mind  had  drawn  and  knit  his  frame  together  for 
the  difficult  purposes  of  a  mighty  life.  There  was  no  waste 
distance,  by  any  needless  length  of  person,  between  his  head 
and  heart,  between  his  heart  and  hand,  between  the  source  and 
center  of  his  life  and  the  instruments  that  that  life  was  to  in 
vigorate  and  employ.  His  head  was  not  only  one  of  the  three 
largest,  but  the  most  regularly  developed  head  of  modern 
times.  According  to  the  measurements  of  Dr.  Jeffries,  made 
on  the  plan  adopted  or  proposed  by  Dr.  Morton,  the  circum- 
ference of  the  head  was  twenty -three  inches  and  three-quarters, 
and  the  distance  frun  the  meatus  of  one  ear,  over  the  top  of 
the  head,  to  the  meatus  of  the  other,  was  fifteen  inches.  The 
longitudinal  diameter  of  the  head  was  seven  and  a  half  inches ; 
the  transverse  diameter,  five  inches  and  three  quarters ;  the 


174  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-FIECEB. 

vertical  diameter,  five  and  a  half  inches,  giving  to  its  whole 
capacity,  one  hundred  and  twenty-two  cubic  inches,  the  average 
capacity  of  the  Teutonic  race  being,  according  to  Dr.  Morton, 
ninety-two  cubic  inches.  His  was  the  largest  head,  rating  by 
the  cranial  capacity,  of  which  there  has  been  made  any  record. 
His  temperament,  a  mixture  of  the  nervous  and  bilious,  was 
just  the  one,  which  the  most  strenuous  materialist  would  have 
selected,  to  give  him  the  highest  activity  of  his  faculties,  and  the 
greatest  power  of  endurance,  to  sustain  him  against  the  frame- 
shaking  enginery  and  energy  of  his  mind.  Added  to  all  his 
other  traits,  and  as  a  final  accomplishment  of  his  person,  Mr. 
Webster  must  be  said  to  have  been  truly  beautiful.  It  was  not 
feminine  beauty  that  every  one  beheld  and  noted  in  him.  It 
was  a  manly  beauty,  the  beauty  of  his  sex.  It  was  the  beauty 
of  a  large,  powerful,  mighty  being,  whose  proportions  were 
magnificent,  but  still  charming  and  attractive  to  the  eye.  It 
was  that  beauty  that  lies  embodied  in  sublimity.  It  was  the 
beauty  of  the  ocean,  when  lying  motionless,  and  clear,  and 
deep,  beneath  the  spectator's  glance.  It  was  the  beauty  of  the 
overhanging  sky,  broad  and  boundless,  which,  serene  and  quiet 
as  it  may  be  to-day,  carries  within  itself  a  vastness  of  power, 
that,  to-morrow,  may  shake  heaven  and  cause  the  earth  to  trem- 
ble to  its  poles.  In  every  way,  in  every  feature,  in  all  his  bear- 
ing, Daniel  Webster  was  certainly  a  pattern,  as  if  nature  had 
designedly  brought  together  into  one,  the  perfections  of  many 
persons,  that,  after  numerous  disappointments,  the  world  might 
at  last  have  a  model  of  a  man. 

In  advancing  higher,  to  take  some  account  of  Mr.  Webster's 
mind,  it  is  not  enough  to  say,  that  the  mind  is  the  true  stand- 
ard of  the  man,  or  that  his  mind  was  without  a  parallel  among 
living  men.  This  has  been  said  so  often,  and  so  long,  that  some 
more  definite  statement  of  the  universally  acknowledged  fact 
is  wanted.  That  he  was,  intellectually,  far  above  and  beyond 
any  modern  man,  and  perhaps  equal  to  any  that  ever  lived  OB 


INTELLECTUAL    GREATNESS.  475 

earth,  has  leen  constantly  confessed,  at  home  and  abroad,  for 
thirty  years.  But  intellectual  greatness  is  of  several  kinds.  It 
is  now  a  fit  occasion  to  inquire  what  kind  was  possessed  by 
him. 

If,  in  answering  this  question,  we  follow  the  division  of  the 
intellect  made  by  Bacon,  into  memory,  imagination  and  reason, 
we  shall  be  compelled,  without  doubt,  after  this  protracted  in- 
vestigation of  Mr.  Webster's  life  and  labors,  to  ascribe  to  him 
the  three  orders  of  greatness  founded  respectively  upon  the 
several  departments  of  the  understanding.  He  undoubtedly 
possessed  that  greatness  based  on  memory,  which,  though  the 
lowest  order  of  intellectual  greatness,  has  been  alone  sufficient 
to  give  to  many  a  name  a  world-wide  reputation.  Not  that  he 
had  a  Mezzofantian  memory,  that  devoured  everything,  good 
and  bad,  or  the  memory  of  the  friend  of  Frederick  the  Great, 
who,  on  hearing  a  long  poem  read  once,  could  repeat  it  in- 
stantly, without  the  variation  of  a  syllable.  Nor  had  he  any 
of  the  tricks  of  memory  after  any  system  of  mnemonics,  by 
which  he  could  recount  a  long  and  disconnected  catalogue  of 
names,  by  having  it  a  single  time  read  over  to  him.  No  mem- 
ory of  that  sort  had  Mr.  Webster.  His  memory  was  natural, 
and  sound,  and  healthy.  It  was  strong,  retentive,  ready  and 
universal.  It  need  not  be  said,  for  it  would  be  no  eulogy,  that 
he  remembered  everything.  What  can  be  said  of  him  is  all 
that  characterizes  a  really  great  memory.  He  always  retained, 
and  could  use  at  any  moment,  and  with  the  most  perfect  ac- 
curacy, whatever  he  had  intended  to  lay  up  at  any  time  of 
reading  or  of  observation.  His  memory  for  words,  for  facts, 
and  for  ideas,  was  about  equal.  Thoughts  that  he  had  once  had, 
seldom  if  ever  escaped  him  ;  for,  in  all  his  speeches,  which 
must  be  counted  by  the  hundred,  and  which  extended  through 
a  spare  of  over  forty  years,  he  was  remarkable  for  recollecting 
and  pointing  out — even  when  speaking  without  previous  no 
tice — what  he  had  said  on  the  same  subject  on  all  former  oo- 


476  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

casions.  Events,  whether  those  of  history^  or  those  coming 
within  the-  range  of  his  own  experience,  were  always  stated  by 
him  exactly  as  they  occurred,  and  generally  accompanied  by  all 
their  attending  circumstances;  and  more  than  once,  when  en- 
gaged in  debate,  and  when  a  variance  arose  between  him  and 
his  opponent  in  relation  to  a  fact,  his  statement  of  it  not 
only  carried  his  hearers  with  him,  but  convinced  his  antagonist 
without  farther  examination  or  evidence,  that  his  own  recollec- 
tion was  at  fault.  It  is  a  singular  circumstance  in  the  history  of 
Mr.  Webster,  that  an  appeal  is  not  known  to  have  ever  been 
taken  from  anything  deliberately  stated  by  him  as  a  fact.  His 
word,  his  memory,  was  always  the  end  of  controvei'sy  in  a  mat- 
ter which  he  professed  to  know.  In  regard  to  language,  or 
what  is  called  verbal  memory,  he  was  yet  more  remarkable. 
His  citations,  as  has  been  before  said  in  the  narrative  of  his  life, 
have  long  been  celebrated  as  being  always  the  best  that  could 
have  been  made ;  and  his  quotations  from  the  great  masters, 
in  the  course  of  an  argument,  were  invariably  so  fit,  so  perti- 
nent, that  the  reader  or  hearer  doubted,  whether  the  passage 
or  phrase  in  question  had  ever  been  before,  or  could  ever  be 
again,  so  aptly  quoted.  There  was  something  so  remarkable 
;n  him,  in  this  respect,  that  it  is  difficult  to  state  it  with  suffi- 
cient force.  In  every  instance,  it  seemed  as  if  his  passages  and 
phrases,  ages  before  he  wanted  them,  had  been  made  to  his 
order,  and  that  he  had  laid  them  up  in  his  early  years,  as  if  pre- 
scient of  the  precise  use  he  would  wish  ever  afterward  to  make 
of  them.  For  thirty  years,  so  noted  was  this  trait,  the  world 
of  critics  have  been  watching  him  to  see  if  they  could  not  find 
him,  at  some  careless  moment,  tripping.  Two  or  three  times, 
in  the  course  of  this  long  period,  they  have  imagined  that  they 
had  at  last  found  a  fault ;  but  in  every  case,  after  mature  exam- 
ination, the  critics  have  been  forced  to  acknowledge  that  he 
was  right.  Near  the  close  of  life,  indeed,  when  some  professed 
to  discover  a  decline  of  his  great  faculties,  an  instance  of  this 


HIS    IMAGINATION.  4T3 

kind  occurred.  In  the  course  of  the  brief  and  unambitious 
speech  in  Fanueil  Hall,  before  mentioned,  made  on  the  24th 
of  May,  1852,  he  quoted  two  lines  of  poetry,  which  he  ascribed 
to  Dr.  Johnson.  Next  day,  the  literary  newspaper  writers  of 
Boston,  opposed  to  him  in  politics,  came  out  with  flaming  par- 
agraphs, heralded  by  a  sound  of  trumpets,  that  the  great  orator 
had  certainly  made  one  blunder  ;  and,  in  proof  of  their  asser- 
tion, they  published  large  extracts  from  one  of  Dr.  Goldsmith's 
pieces,  in  which  the  two  lines  evidently  occur.  The  great  cul- 
prit made  no  correction.  Perhaps  he  did  not  read  the  stric- 
tures. In  a  few  days,  however,  some  deeper  scholar  had  found 
the  fact,  which  Mr.  Webster  had  perhaps  known  from  boyhood, 
that  though  Dr.  Goldsmith  did  write  the  body  of  the  poem,  Dr. 
Johnson  wrote  the  twelve  last  lines  of  it, and  that  it  was  this  addi- 
tion from  which  the  orator  had  made,  extemporaneously,  but 
knowingly,  his  quotation.  In  literature  itself,  which  had  never 
been  to  him  more  than  a  recreation,  he  proved  himself,  not 
only  once,  but  often,  more  accurate  than  those  men,  who  made 
it  their  profession.  In  all  matters  of  memory,  indeed,  he  real- 
ized the  strong  language  of  the  poet : 

"  His  words  were  bonds,  his  oaths  were  oracles." 

Of  Mr.  Webster's  imagination,  or  his  power  to  recall  and 
combine  past  perceptions,  and  frame  them  together  in  new 
ways  and  according  to  new  relations,  nothing  less  can  be  said 
than  that  he  had  no  living  superior.  Philosophy  assures  us  that 
clearness  and  vividness  of  conception  is  at  the  same  time  the 
chief  element,  both  of  recollection  and  of  imagination.  The 
man  who  can  look  upon  the  past  with  so  steady  and  bright 
and  broad  a  vision  as  did  Mr.  Webster,  must  see  plainly  the 
natural  and  the  possible  resemblances  and  contradictions,  as 
well  as  all  other  intelligible  relations  between  objects.  That 
Mr.  Webster  did  see  them,  and  profit  by  what  he  saw,  every 
thing  he  ever  did  bears  witness.  No  man  ever  beheld  the 


478 


WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 


ccngruities,  or  the  incongruities,  of  events,  facts  and  idea.;  more 
accurately,  or  more  happily.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  he  was 
about  equally  capable  of  both  grave  and  ludicrous  creations. 
In  public,  he  was  noted  for  his  serious  pictures,  which  were  al- 
ways the  pictures  of  a  master.  In  private,  he  is  said  to  have 
indulged  in  the  ludicrous,  his  wit  being  ready  and  exhaustless, 
and  his  descriptions  rich,  racy,  and  dramatic.  He  was  the  best 
story-teller  of  the  whole  country,  and  his  performances  in  this 
way  have  been  compared  to  the  dialogues  of  Shakspeare. 
He  could  make  a  story,  as  well  as  tell  one;  and  his  ideal  pic- 
tures of  life,  and  particularly  of  the  future  life,  were  wonder- 
folly  striking  and  original.  It  was  seldom  that  he  publicly 
indulged  in  pure  satire ;  but  when  he  did,  the  man  or  the  idea 
satirized  was  an  object  of  sport  or  of  contempt  ever  afterwards. 
When  South  Carolina,  unsupported  by  a  single  other  state,  pro- 
posed to  nullify  the  acts  and  authority  of  congress,  Daniel 
Webster,  in  one  of  his  inspired  moments,  advised  her  to  go  on 
and  take  the  contemplated  step.  He  told  her,  with  a  wither- 
ing smile,  to  take  from  our  flag  her  one  star  and  one  slrijw, 
and  set  up  a  republic  and  be  a  country  by  herself!  The  step 
was  never  taken  ;  for  every  one  saw,  from  that  moment,  even 
South  Carolina  herself,  how  ridiculously  the  one  star  and  one 
stripe  would  look  ?  His  figures  were  always  thus  pertinent 
and  strong.  They  were  arguments;  and  the  arguments  were 
conclusive.  They  were  not  such  as  Irving,  or  Addison,  or  even 
Shakspeare  would  have  made,  simply  humorous,  laughable  and 
capable  of  a  competition  by  other  tongues.  They  were  such  as 
no  other  tongue,  no  other  pen  but  his,  has  ever  framed,  or  may 
ever  frame  again.  The  man  nearest  to  him,  and  most  like 
him  in  this  respect,  was  Burke.  Had  he  not  been,  indeed,  so 
many  things  else,  and  particularly  a  statesman  of  such  weighty 
cares,  Mr.  Webster  might  have  been  a  poet ;  and  his  poetry 
would  have  been,  not  the  eloquent  volubility  of  Homer,  nor 
the  placid  stateliness  of  Virgil,  nor  th<>  minute  philosophism  of 


HIS    REASONING    FACULTY.  479 

Lucreti  as,  nor  the  refined  sentimentalism  of  Petraivh,  nor  the 
cold  magniloquence  of  Corneille,  nor  the  finical  polish  of  Racine 
nor  the  careful  scholasticism  of  Gcethe,  nor  the  sensuous  warmth 
of  Schiller,  nor  the  feminine  delicacy  of  Addison,  nor  the  verbal 
opulence  of  Thomson,  nor  the  shorn  and  shaven  evenness  and  bal- 
anced accuracy  of  Pope,  but  something  entirely  his  own,  and  still 
a  poetry  of  the  first  grade.  Judging  from  the  imagery  of  his 
prose  writings, and  from  what  are  known  to  have  been  the  leading 
characteristics  of  his  mind,  it  seems  most  probable  that  he  would 
have  combined  the  dramatic  power  of  Shakspeare  with  the 
high  sublimity  of  Dante,  or  of  Milton.  To  their  class,  cer- 
tainly, Mr.  Webster,  as  a  poet,  would  have  belonged  ;  and  he 
was  the  only  man  of  this  century,  or  of  the  preceding  centuries, 
that  could  have  composed  Hamlet,  the  Inferno,  or  Paradise 
Lost.  He  might,  it  is  probable,  have  written  either,  had  he 
given  his  days  to  literature,  rather  than  to  the  state ;  for  the 
breadth  and  power  of  his  imagination,  as  well  as  the  liveliness 
of  his  fancy,  have  been  seldom  equaled,  and  perhaps  not  once 
surpassed. 

Ascending  still  higher  in  this  investigation,  to  examine  Mr. 
Webster's  claims  to  greatness  on  the  ground  of  reason,  the 
third  division  of  the  intellect,  according  to  Lord  Bacon,  less 
need  be  said,  as  all  men  have  given  him,  in  this  respect,  the 
preeminence  above  the  greatest  personages  of  modern  times. 
Here,  he  stood  entirely  alone,  unapproached  and  unapproacha- 
ble. Whatever  may  have  been  said  of*  him,  in  relation  to 
other  qualities,  he  never  had  an  enemy,  or  a  rival,  possessed 
of  any  character  as  a  critic,  that  ventured  to  deny  him  this  su- 
periority over  other  men.  In  pure  argument,  in  clear,  com- 
pact, solid  reasoning,  it  is  undeniable  that  he  never  looked  upon 
his  equal.  Such  was  his  penetration,  that  he  saw  the  bottom 
of  everything  upon  which  he  turned  his  eye.  No  arts  could 
mystify,  no  sophistry  could  deceive  him.  A  subject  of  debate 
ncight  be  covered  up  by  an  age  of  opposing  precedents,  or  ob 


480  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES 

scured  by  the  contrivances  of  his  antagonists,  01  clouded  by  its 
own  depth  or  distance,  so  that  common  minds,  however  honest, 
knew  not  what  to  think  of  it.  When  he  cast  his  eye  upon  it, 
these  precedents  were  nothing  ;  his  antagonists  were  nothing  •, 
the  depth  and  distance  of  the  idea,  were  nothing.  He  brushed 
them  all  away  ;  he  went  directly  to  the  thought,  whatever  or 
wherever  it  might  be  ;  and  he  brought  it  up,  entire  and  alone, 
exhibiting  it  clearly  to  every  person's  comprehension,  exactly 
in  its  own  proportions.  Not  only  was  he  thus  profound  and 
strong,  but  he  was  broad  and  comprehensive.  He  not  only 
saw  his  idea,  and  that  distinctly  separated  from  every  other 
idea,  similar  and  dissimilar,  but  he  beheld  all  its  relations  to 
other  ideas,  near  and  remote,  and  seemed  to  realize,  while  em- 
ploying or  presenting  it,  every  possible  bearing  it  might  have 
upon  every  possible  idea,  or  interest,  past,  present,  and  future. 
If  it  may  be  said  deferentially,  and  only  with  its  own  meaning, 
there  was  a  sort  of  omnipresence  in  his  genius,  in  his  reason- 
ing, of  which  every  reader  and  every  hearer  was  always 
strangely  conscious.  He  had  scarcely  taken  his  seat  for  the 
first  time  in  congress,  before  it  became  evident,  that,  if  any 
one  wished  to  oppose  him,  it  must  be  by  other  means  than 
argument.  With  whatever  eloquence,  either  of  diction  or  of 
delivery,  he  was  at  any  time  beset,  it  was  but  a  playful  effort 
for  him  to  take  up  the  speeches,  paragraph  by  paragraph,  take 
out  of  them  all  their  rhetoric,  and  reduce  them  to  their  sim- 
ple essence,  and  then  perhaps  annihilate  that  essence  by  a  sin- 
gle stroke  of  his  powerful  and  resistless  logic.  In  the  early 
part  of  his  congressional  career,  a  well  known  senator  used  to 
try  his  arts  of  metaphysical  dialectics  on  him ;  but  he  soon 
found  that  finely-spun  theories  and  delicately-drawn  distinctions 
could  not  chain  a  giant.  At  the  same  period,  another  distin 
guished  senator  would  occasionally  attempt  to  mislead  or  neu 
tralize  him,  by  the  employment  of  rich  description,  captivating 
imagery,  a  charming  voice,  and  a  passionate  and  very  confiden< 


POWER    IK    ARGUMENT.  481 

style  of  oratory ;  but  all  these  attempts  were  fir.  ally  abandoned 
as  thrown  away  upon  a  man,  who,  rising  with  the  most  perfect 
coolness,  could  always  give  the  exact  weight  and  worth  of 
everything  thus  beautifully  uttered,  and  then  present  his  own 
views  so  cogently,  and  so  clearly,  as  to  make  them  stand  out 
like  living  mathematical  demonstrations.  In  all  these  efforts, 
however,  he  was  always  cautious  not  to  do  more  than  the  case 
demanded,  and  never  to  inflict  needless  chagrin  upon  an  oppo- 
nent, as  a  weak  man  often  does,  by  pressing  too  far  a  logical 
advantage.  He  seemed  ever  to  be  conscious,  that,  in  these 
mental  battles,  he  always  had  the  advantage  of  mankind  gen- 
erally, and  that  deriving  it  as  a  gift  of  heaven,  he  was  bound 
to  treat  his  opponents  with  mercy.  Only  twice  in  his  life-time 
did  he  appear  at  all  to  vary  from  this  rule  of  action ;  and  in 
both  cases,  the  personal  assaults  made  upon  his  private  char- 
acter, as  well  as  the  vital  import  to  the  country  of  a  thorough 
victory,  have  always  been  looked  upon  as  a  sound  apology. 
These  were  probably  the  only  instances,  also,  where  his  whole 
mind  was  roused  to  do  its  utmost ;  and  it  is  scarcely  too  much 
to  say,  that  the  chief  existence  which  the  two  men  have  since 
had  is  the  immortality  arising  to  them  from  the  sublime  effort 
by  which  everything  but  a  bare  existence  was  taken  from  them. 
One  of  them  fell  at  once  into  utter  oblivion,  so  far  as  the  na- 
tion is  concerned  ;  and  the  other,  not  only  a  man  of  talents,  but 
supported  by  a  combination  of  great  power,  on  being  plainly 
told,  by  one  of  his  friends,  that  he  and  his  party  had  been  ut- 
terly annihilated  by  the  great  New-Englander,  thought  it  a 
sufficient  glory,  as  he  said,  that  no  living  man  could  have  dealt 
annihilation  to  him  but  Daniel  Webster.  Daniel  Webster, 
however,  could  deal  defeat  to  any  opponent,  in  a  conflict  of  pure 
argument,  whom  he  was  ever  called  to  meet  in  public  or  in 
private  life.  His  reasoning  power,  indeed,  was  almost  as  sub- 
tle as  Aristotle's,  quite  as  brilliant  as  Plato's,  and  as  practical 


482  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

as  Lord  Bacon's ;  and  he  might  have  been,  perhaps,  either  one 
of  those  philosophers  had  he  not  been  Daniel  Webster. 

Such,  without  doubt,  is  the  universal  opinion  entertained  of 
the  mental  capacities  of  the  immortal  statesman  ;  but  there  is  a 
higher  order  of  greatness,  which  has  been  seldom  mentioned, 
but  which  should  be  equally  ascribed  to  him.  It  is  that  order 
of  greatness  founded  upon  the  sensibilities.  Mr.  Webster  was 
not  simply  a  person  of  great  physical  perfection  endowed  with 
a  .powerful  intellect.  lie  was  a  man  of  feeling.  His  emotions 
alone,  had  they  been  alone,  would  have  distinguished  him  as 
much  as  his  memory,  his  imagination,  or  his  reason.  He  was 
a  man  of  keen,  delicate,  and  lively  sentiment.  Like  the  pillars 
about  a  temple,  his  mind  was  a  combination  of  strength  with 
beauty.  He  was  passionately  fond  of  nature.  He  fixed  his 
residence  in  a  rural  spot,  surrounded  by  fields  and  forests,  rocks 
and  running  water.  His  favorite  room,  which  he  used  as  a 
library  and  study,  looked  out  upon  the  ocean,  which  he  is  said 
to  have  been  accustomed  to  gaze  upon  by  the  hour  together.  He 
delighted  in  the  successive  changes  of  the  seasons.  The  storms 
of  winter  and  the  flowers  of  spring  gave  him  equal  pleasure. 
In  the  heat  of  summer,  as  has  been  seen,  he  was  wont  to  go  out 
and  sit  upon  the  streamlet  banks,  or  ramble  through  the  shady 
woods,  or  wander  upon  the  ocean  beach,  sometimes  with  his 
gun,  but  more  generally  with  his  fishing  rod,  all  the  time 
deeply  musing,  as  if  it  were  his  only  business  in  life  to  visit  and 
enjoy  the  works  of  his  Creator.  He  enjoyed  himself  much  with 
children,  and  allowed  them  to  take  liberties  with  him,  as  a  lion 
might  enter  into  the  sports  of  lambkins.  He  has  been  heard 
to  say  that  a  little  child  asleep  was  to  him  the  most  touching 
of  all  earthly  objects.  He  loved  beauty,  serenity,  and  inno- 
cence; and  he  has  been  frequently  observed  returning  to  his  man- 
sion, after  a  morning's  ramble,  with  his  hands  filled  with  flow- 
ers. One  of  the  most  beautiful  of  his  compositions  is  a  letter 
he  wrote  to  a  friend,  in  praise  of  the  quiet  and  freshness  of  the 


DEPTH  OF  HIS  SENSIBILITIES.  483 

morning ;  and  his  Franklin  letter,  written  while  looking  out  of 
a  window  of  the  old  Salisbury  homestead  upon  the  graves  of 
his  buried  kindred,  is  as  affecting  as  anything  in  the  English  lan- 
guage. His  domestic  affections  were  wonderfully  strong.  Nor 
is  it  to  be  forgotten,  that  always,  in  all  his  writings,  wherever 
his  father's  name  is  mentioned,  it  is  followed  by  a  point  of  ad- 
miration ;  and  he  could  never  speak  of  his  eldest  brother,  who 
died  so  suddenly,  without  being  moved  to  tears.  When  he 
lost  his  children,  his  grief,  though  submissive,  was  sublime.  Il 
was  like  that  of  David.  His  neighbors,  and  his  neighborhood, 
lived  in  his  affections ;  and  his  love  for  New  England,  second 
only  to  his  love  for  the  whole  country,  has  long  been  a  passion. 
His  love  of  his  native  land  was  always  stronger  in  him  than  the 
love  of  life ;  and  yet,  such  was  the  breadth  of  his  feelings,  as 
well  as  his  breadth  of  view,  that  he  was  ever  able  to  make  the 
most  ardent  patriotism  a  part  of  that  general  benevolence  which 
embraced  the  whole  human  family.  A  memorable  instance  of 
his  kindness  of  heart  was  mentioned  after  his  death,  by  Mr. 
Everett.  Tbat  gentleman,  when  about  to  prepare  the  last  edi- 
tion of  Mr.  Webster's  works,  was  permitted  to  follow  his  own 
taste  without  much  restraint.  Only  one  injunction  was  laid 
upon  him.  "  My  friend,"  said  Mr.  Webster,  "  I  wish  to  per- 
petuate no  feuds.  I  have  lived  a  life  of  strenuous  political  war- 
fare. I  have  sometimes,  though  rarely,  and  that  in  self-defense, 
been  led  to  speak  of  others  with  severity.  I  beg  you,  where 
you  can  do  it  without  wholly  changing  the  character  of  the 
speech,  and  thus  doing  essential  injustice  to  me,  to  obliterate 
every  trace  of  personality  of  this  kind.  I  should  prefer  not  to 
leave  a  word  that  would  give  unnecessary  pain  to  any  honest 
man,  however  opposed  to  me."  It  was  for  this  reason  that  his 
politioal  enemies  generally  esteemed  him.  It  was  for  this  reason, 
so  clearly  seen  in  all  his  speeches  and  in  all  his  acts,  that  he  was 
our  most  successful  diplomatist,  because,  while  maintaining  his 
regard  for  his  own  government,  he  had  made  himself  the  idol 
VOL.  i.  U  31 


484  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

of  other  nations.  All  men  have  celebrated  Mr.  Webster's 
intellectual  greatness;  but  the  world  has  yet  to  learn,  what 
it  will  learn,  when  his  whole  character  shall  have  been  re- 
vealed, that  his  heart  was  even  greater  than  his  head.  When 
we  look  upon  his  calling,  upon  the  nature  of  his  employ 
ments,  upon  the  places  he  occupied,  and  upon  the  general  be- 
havior of  our  public  characters,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that 
that  heart  of  his,  always  young,  sensitive,  tender,  and  full  of  be- 
nevolence to  all  the  world,  made  him  emphatically  our  most 
glorious  man  ! 

But  there  is  still  another  order  of  greatness,  which  is  to  be 
ranked  higher  than  all  others,  because  it  is  that  which  gives  life 
and  character  to  them  all.  It  is  that  order  of  greatness 
founded  upon  a  powerful  will.  The  will  is  the  internal  force 
that  moves  and  controls  the  man.  It  is  the  man  himself.  It 
is  that  interior  essence  that  calls  everything  else  its  own.  A 
weak,  hesitating,  unresolving  will,  always  leaves  a  man  weak, 
hesitating,  and  unresolved.  A  strong  will  makes  a  man  strong. 
It  was  his  will  that  made  Alexander  the  conqueror  of  the  world. 
It  was  his  will  that  made  Hannibal  great,  both  in  victory  and 
defeat.  It  was  his  will  that  gave  to  Caesar,  in  spite  of  ten  thou- 
sand discouragements,  the  command  of  his  enemies  and  the  em- 
pire of  Rome.  It  was  his  will,  his  imperial  will,  that  made  Na- 
poleon what  he  was.  It  was  his  will  that  put  England  into  the 
power  of  Cromwell,  when  nothing  but  a  strong  will  could  stand. 
The  laborer  of  Marseilles  told  Kossuth,  that  everything  is  pos- 
sible to  him  that  wills ;  but  the  loss  of  Hungary  is  to  be  attrit> 
uted  to  the  very  fact,  that  the  lesson  had  not  been  learned  be- 
fore. Had  the  great  Magyar,  the  moment  he  had  seen  the 
first  symptoms  of  treachery  in  Gorgey,  hurled  him  from  his 
path,  and  rushed  to  the  last  conflict  with  the  spirit  of  an  u»- 
oonquered  and  unconquerable  man,  the  land  he  has  so  honored 
and  so  loved  might  now  be  free;  but  in  this  one  pcint,  with 
all  the  nobleness  and  grandeur  of  his  soul,  he  failed.  This  is 


POWER    OF    HIS    WILL.  48A 

not  the  first  time,  perhaps,  that  the  imagination  has  been  in- 
dulged, in  supposing  how  Webster  would  have  acted,  in  such 
a  crisis,  with  such  a  traitor  at  his  back.  It  will  take  no  time 
to  tell.  He  would  have  raised  himself  up  to  the  highest  and 
dreadest  demand  of  the  moment.  An  army  of  Gorgeys  would 
have  been  but  a  feather  in  his  way.  The  first  word  of  treason  to 
his  country  would  have  been  the  death-warrant  to  any  and  every 
man.  Storms  might  have  arisen,  but  Webster,  fully  roused, 
would  have  beaten  them  back,  or  grasped  them  and  held  them 
motionless  in  his  fist.  Such  has  ever  been  his  character.  His 
will  never  saw  a  crisis  greater  than  itself.  When  resolved,  no- 
thing on  earth  could  ever  move  him,  or  shake  him  from  his 
course.  Acting,  as  it  is  believed  he  always  did,  from  a  sense 
of  right  and  duty,  after  the  most  careful  examination  of  a  ques- 
tion, neither  enemies  nor  friends  could  swerve  him  from  his 
purpose.  The  west  might  threaten  him  and  the  east  give  signs 
of  the  withdrawal  of  its  confidence  and  esteem  ;  but  he  always 
went  directly  forward,  turning  neither  to  the  right  nor  left. 
The  south  might  burn  against  him,  and  the  north  might  gather 
on  him  a  coldness  greater  than  its  own  ;  but,  nothing  daunted,  he 
slackened  not  in  the  execution  of  his  resolves.  When  the  pro- 
slavery  feeling  of  the  southern  states  concentrates  to  nullify  the 
authority  of  congress,  and  overthrow  the  federal  government, 
he  rises  up  in  the  majesty  of  his  soul,  stakes  his  reputation  and 
his  political  fortunes  on  a  single  act,  routs  the  enemies  of  his 
country  forever  from  the  field,  and  gives  to  us  all  a  country,  a 
government,  at  a  cost  which  the  services  of  a  long  life  have  not 
been  able,  as  he  knew  they  would  not  be  able,  to  make  good. 
When  the  anti-slavery  spirit  of  the  northern  states,  just  in  itself, 
but  overlooking  the  authority  of  the  constitution  assumes  a 
hostile  character,  he  rises  again,  turning  his  face  agamst  his  own 
New  England,  against  the  dearest  friends  he  ever  had  on  earth, 
against  what  falsely  and  yet  plausibly  seems  to  have  been  the 
tenor  c  f  his  whole  life,  and  proves  himself  once  more  above  all 


486  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

flattery,  above  all  threats,  resolved  to  do  his  own  duty,  as  he 
himself  sees  it,  and  to  be  supported  only  by  the  approval  of 
nis  own  conscience  and  the  invincible  might  of  his  own  great 
will.  This,  beyond  all  contradiction,  after  all  that  has  been 
said  of  Webster,  was  his  master  trait ;  and,  in  this  respect, 
the  world  has  never  seen  a  truer,  a  stronger,  or  a  sublimer 
man. 

These,  according  to  the  facts  previously  narrated,  were 
the  leading  characteristics  of  the  late  and  illustrious  Dan- 
iel Webster ;  and  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  such  a  man,  liv- 
ing in  such  an  age  as  this,  could  have  passed  so  long  a  life  with- 
out doing  something  remarkable  for  his  country.  Without  at- 
tempting to  give  a  detailed  account  of  his  great  services,  not 
only  to  his  native  land,  but  to  other  lands,  and  to  man  in  gen- 
eral, there  are  three  important  lessons,  contained  in  his  ex- 
ample, which  cannot  be  omitted  without  doing  his  memory 
injustice. 

In  the  first  place,  Webster  has  given  us  and  given  the  world 
a  great  and  useful  lesson  in  the  art  of  public  speaking.  lie 
was  our  first  orator.  He  was  a  genuine  orator.  He  was  the 
first  American  to  discover,  and  to  prove  in  his  own  person,  that 
true  oratory  needs  no  tricks  of  rheforic,  no  arts  of  declamation, 
no  extravagance  of  voice  and  gesture,  no  rant,  no  bombast.  He 
said  what  he  felt,  in  simple,  honest  language,  every  word  of 
which  had  its  meaning ;  and  this  he  demonstrated  to  be  true 
eloquence.  It  was  with  this  plain,  straight-forward  eloquence, 
that  he  swayed  at  his  pleasure  the  masses  of  the  people,  when- 
ever and  wherever  they  went  out  to  hear  him.  It  was  with  this 
that  he  stood  up  before  the  most  learned  and  fastidious  audi- 
ences, teaching  them  that  simplicity  is  the  great  element  of 
power,  even  in  literary  discourses.  It  was  with  this  that  he 
appeared  before  the  assembled  talent  of  the  nation,  where  every 
individual  was  an  interested  critic,  and  made  an  envious  senate 
iisten  to  him  with  admiration ;  and,  in  the  course  of  his  public 


OUR    FIRST    ORATOR.  487 

life,  he  made  an  impression  on  the  senate,  as  an  orator,  as  a 
teacher  of  true  oratory,  such  as  no  other  man  ever  made. 
Randolph  might  be  more  humorous,  Preston  moi'e  particular 
in  gesture,  Clay  more  flowery  and  passionate,  and  other  sena 
tors  more  captivating  to  a  superficial  populace ;  but,  while 
these  orators  seemed  to  be  regarded  as  paragons  by  the  people, 
they  themselves  looked  upon  Webster  as  their  own  model. 
Everything  about  his  oratory  was  so  easy,  so  natural,  so  sim- 
ple, so  direct,  and  yet  so  beautiful  and  powerful,  that  he  may 
well  be  acknowledged  as  the  orator  of  his  country.  The 
crowning  excellence  of  his  oratory  was,  that  he  always  met  the 
occasion  that  called  him  out — met  it  exactly,  perfectly — but 
never  tried  to  go  beyond  it.  Truly  beautiful  and  majestic  in 
his  person,  his  attitude  was  always  dignified ;  his  changes  of 
position  natural  and  easy  ;  his  gesticulation  simple  but  ex- 
tremely happy  ;  his  intonations  clear,  distinct,  forcible,  and 
sometimes  remarkably  deep  and  weighty,  but  never  boister- 
ous ;  his  eye  steady,  piercing,  and  occasionally  burning  and 
flashing ;  his  face  varying  in  expression  with  every  variation 
of  thought  and  feeling,  sonu'limes  frowning  as  no  other  man 
could  frown,  then  beaming  with  a  smile  that  seemed  like  a 
gentle  flash  of  lightning  playing  harmlessly  over  the  uneven 
surface  of  a  cloud,  or  like  what  the  sacred  writer  describes  as 
"  the  opening-up  of  the  eye-lids  of  morning  ; "  and,  with  all  his 
dignity  of  manner,  his  mind  was  constantly  pouring  out  a  cur- 
rent of  pure  thought — thought  now  and  then  set  on  fire  by  genu- 
ine feeling — that  went  straight-forward  to  his  great  purpose,  and 
as  directly  to  the  intelligence  and  heart  of  his  rapt  and  admi- 
ring auditors.  Such  was  his  oratory ;  and  the  lesson  he  has 
taught  us  will  hereafter  be  the  species  of  eloquence  sought 
after  by  our  best  public  speakers,  on  every  occasion,  and 
handed  down  to  future  generations  as  that  style  which  they 
srill  be  proud  to  call  American. 


488  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

In  the  next  place,  Mr.  Webster  has  given  us  a  great  lesson 
as  a  writer,  famishing  us  with  a  specimen  of  the  best  style  of 
English  composition.  He  was  the  ablest  living  writer  in  the 
language.  He  was  as  able,  perhaps,  as  any  man  that  ever 
wrote  it.  His  writings  will  ever  remain,  not  only  as  treas- 
ures of  political  wisdom,  but  as  the  highest  standard  of  style 
on  either  side  of  the  Atlantic.  Addison,  it  is  true,  wrote  more 
elaborately,  and  with  a  finer  polish,  but  not  so  strongly,  clearly, 
and  effectively.  Johnson  attained  a  better  flow  of  sentences, 
and  a  more  perfect  rising  and  tailing  of  his  periods  ;  but  his 
style  is  verbose  and  affected  when  compared  with  that  of  Web- 
ster. Robert  Hall  moved  with  a  more  steady  impulse,  and 
rolled  more  evenly  along  in  the  sustained  grandeur  of  his  com- 
position ;  but  he  never  went  home  to  the  ordinary  apprehen- 
sions of  his  readers,  nor  bound  them  as  firmly  to  his  thought, 
as  did  Daniel  Webster.  On  this  side  of  the  ocean,  Irving 
writes  as  correctly  and  as  beautifully,  but  not  so  powerfully  ; 
Prescott  writes  more  picturesquely,  but  not  so  purely.  Chan- 
ning  was  equally  pure,  equally  picturesque,  equally  dignified 
and  simple,  but  not  so  thorough  a  master  of  the  language.  In 
most  other  American  prose  writers,  whose  reputations  have  be 
come  historical,  with  all  their  varied  excellencies,  are  to  be  found, 
more  or  less  frequently,  positive  blemishes  of  style.  There 
were  no  blemishes  of  style  in  the  elaborated  and  finished  pro- 
ductions of  Daniel  Webster.  The  most  subtle  and  determined 
critic  might  be  safely  challenged  to  point  out  a  decided  error 
of  composition  in  all  his  published  writings.  His  excellencies 
are  such,  on  the  contrary,  as  constitute  the  best  style,  for  his 
class  of  subjects,  of  which  the  language  is  susceptible.  Like  his 
oratorv,  his  composition  is  plain,  natural,  easy,  straight-forward 
strong,  dignified,  and  sometimes  very  lofty.  His  diction  is  en 
tirely  English.  He  tricks  out  his  sentences  with  no  French 
flippancies,  no  borrowed  phrases,  no  high-sounding  epithets.  As 
the  classic  Greeks  would  never  write  or  know  any  other  Ian, 


AN    AMERICAN    STATESMAN.  489 

guage  than  the  Greek,  so  he  would  write  only  English.  His 
words  are  the  commonest  in  the  language.  They  are  those  that 
men  use  at  home  by  their  own  firesides,  when  conversing  with 
their  children,  and  with  their  uneducated  friends  and  neighbors. 
Shakspeare  was  the  first  of  our  bards  to  prove  that  the  words 
of  the  household  are  the  best  words,  when  properly  employed, 
for  the  highest  styles  of  poetry.  Mr.  Webster  has  taught  us 
the  same  truth  in  relation  to  prose  composition.  lie  uses  but 
little  ornament ;  but  when  he  does  draw  a  picture,  it  is  one  that, 
put  on  canvas,  would  do  honor  to  a  Raphael,  or  an  Angelo. 
Everything  about  his  composition  is  plain,  strong,  massive,  and 
yet  beautiful.  Some  of  our  other  writers  are  more  nice,  more 
refined,  more  showy.  He  is  simply  correct,  grand,  powerful, 
ornamenting  only  when  he  cannot  help  it.  They  are  like  beau- 
tiful cottages,  or  villas,  in  a  beautiful  situation,  where  flowers 
and  embellishments  are  among  the  most  conspicuous  objects. 
He,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  solitary  temple,  built  up  entirely 
of  granite,  according  to  the  strictest  laws  of  the  simplest  ar- 
chitectural order,  so  vast,  so  well  proportioned,  so  perfect,  that 
the  eye  never  seeks  for  inferior  decorations,  but  loses  itself 
among  those  higher  wonders,  which  satisfy  all  eyes,  and  which 
the  mi  rid  sees  are  to  be  eternal. 

The  highest  lesson,  however,  which  Mr.  Webster  has  given 
to  his  country,  is  that  given  in  his  capacity  as  a  statesman. 
Mr.  Webster  was  a  statesman,  and  not  a  politician.  This  should 
ever  be  remembered.  It  was  often  said,  during  his  life-time, 
that  he  was  not  so  good  a  leader  of  a  party  as  many  others 
of  inferior  talent.  He  had  too  much  talent,  he  was  too  broad 
a  man,  to  be  a  party  leader.  He  was  conscious  of  his  abilities, 
and  of  the  demands  which  the  whole  country,  instead  of  any 
party,  had  upon  him.  In  every  one  of  his  measures,  in  every 
one  of  his  votes,  he  acted  for  the  country,  not  for  any  section 
of  it,  or  for  any  one  class  of  its  citizens,  and  much  less  for  any 
political  organization.  It  is  true,  he  always  nominally  belonged 


490  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

to  a  cenain  party,  but  he  was  never  governed  by  it,  and  he 
never  tried  to  govern  it.  More  than  once,  as  has  been  seen, 
he  has  gone  directly  in  opposition  to  his  party,  and  it  was 
well-known  that  he  was  always  liable  to  do  so,  and  would  da 
so,  if  the  party  were  not  with  him  in  its  measures.  As  a  party 
man,  therefore,  he  was  never  entirely  popular,  while  he  was 
almost  universally  looked  upon  as  our  deepest,  soundest,  truest 
statesman.  He  was  an  American  statesman.  This  also  should 
be  remembered.  He  has  told  us,  and  he  often  told  the  coun- 
try, that,  as  a  servant  of  the  republic,  he  knew  no  east,  no  west, 
no  north,  no  south,  but  was  seeking  the  common  good  of  a  com- 
mon people.  He  originated  no  new  measures,  or  but  very  few, 
and  was  consequently  regarded,  by  superficial  men,  as  defi- 
cient in  political  abilities.  He  was  not,  in  this  sense,  original, 
because  he  was  original  and  alone  in  a  much  deeper  and  more 
important  sense.  In  what  sense,  can  be  very  briefly  stated. 
Having  settled  it  as  a  conviction,  or  a  series  of  convictions,  that 
the  union  of  the  states  had  been  our  sole  reliance  against  Eu- 
ropean aggression  and  domination ;  that  it  was  to  be  our 
sole  reliance  for  the  preservation  of  our  liberties;  that  that 
union  had  been  possible,  and  would  be  possible,  only  on 
the  basis  of  our  present  constitution ;  that  that  constitution 
is  a  fortunate  compromise  of  numerous  contending  inter- 
ests, and  of  various  sections,  by  which  separate  and  en 
tirely  independent  states  were  harmonized,  and  are  held  to- 
gether for  national  purposes  ;  that  a  breach  of  this  federal  con- 
tract, of  this  constitutional  compromise,  by  the  enactments  of 
congress,  or  by  the  laws  of  the  several  states,  or  by  failing  to 
carry  out,  in  good  faith,  its  plain  and  positive  provisions,  would 
be  the  destruction  of  the  contract,  and  a  dissolution  of  that  union, 
in  which  are  embodied  our  harmony,  our  strength,  and  our 
very  existence  as  a  nation  ;  having  settled  all  these  propositions, 
he  could  not  do  otherwise,  as  a  good  patriot,  or  as  a  wise 
statesman,  than  uphold  and  defend  the  constitution  as  he  found 


KEY    TO    HIS    POLITICAL    CAREER.  491 

it.  To  do  this,  in  the  beginning  of  his  career,  he  took  upon 
himself  as  his  peculiar  mission.  This  is  the  key  of  ail  his 
measures,  of  all  his  votes,  of  all  his  speeches.  This  was  his 
originality.  He  resolved  to  keep,  and  to  carry  out,  the  con- 
stitution. He  asked  not  what  party  or  what  section  of  the 
country  it  was,  that  rose  up  against  it.  In  any  event,  and  in 
every  case,  he  was  its  defender ;  and  he  was  several  times,  in 
this  capacity,  its  preserver.  In  looking  on  it  as  a  whole,  he 
knew  it  only  as  a  social  contract,  made  by  competent  parties, 
by  the  people  of  the  whole  country,  never  to  be  broken.  In 
regarding  it  more  minutely,  and  as  a  citizen  of  a  particular  part 
of  the  country,  he  saw  as  clearly  as  any  other  man  ever  did, 
that  one  section  might  complain,  and  with  some  plausibility, 
that  another  section  had  gained  more  by  the  partnership  than 
it  had ;  for  this  is  the  almost  universal  experience  and  habit 
of  partners  to  an  important  and  complicated  connection ;  but 
all  these  complaints  were  nothing  to  Mr.  Webster.  He  used 
to  say,  and  say  most  truly,  that  no  man,  nor  set  of  men,  nor 
any  party  to  a  fair  agreement,  has  the  right  to  repudiate,  or 
nullity,  or  disregard  such  agreement,  merely  because  his  neigh- 
bor, or  neighbors,  or  the  other  parties,  had  made,  as  might  af- 
terwards be  supposed,  the  better  bargain.  When  a  bargain  is 
once  made,  he  maintained,  all  that  any  party  has  to  do,  is  to 
keep  it ;  and  this  he  supposed  to  be  the  duty  of  every  state 
in  the  Union,  and  of  every  citizen  of  every  state.  This,  at  all 
hazards,  he  fixed  upon  as  his  own  duty ;  and  in  the  perform- 
ance of  it,  he  often  risked  all  he  had,  and  all  he  was,  and  all 
he  may  have  ever  hoped  to  be. 

He  saw,  and  saw  clearly,  that,  if  the  constitution  were  not 
kept  equally  by  all  parties,  a  revolution  would  be  the  conse- 
quence, the  states  would  be  dissevered,  and  the  flag  of  a  once 
glorious  Union  would  be  torn  to  tatters.  As  a  statesman, 
he  was  our  flag-holder,  and  our  flag-defender.  Through  his 
whole  life,  lately  as  well  as  formerly,  whoever  or  whatever 

VOL.  I.  U* 


492  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    MASTER-PIECES. 

opposed,  or  seemei  to  endanger,  he  held  firmly  to  it  with  a 
giant's  grasp  ;  and,  with  a  giant's  hand,  he  smote  down  everj 
man,  and  all  men,  friends  or  enemies,  who  rose  up  against  it. 
In  the  darkest  hours  of  our  history,  sometimes  as  unhurt  as  a 
granite  pillar,  at  other  times  bleeding  from  the  wounds  given 
him  by  those  for  whom  he  had  ventured  everything,  he  stood 
firmly  to  it.  That  we  have  a  flag  to-day,  a  national  flag,  an 
American  flag,  furled  as  it  was  the  day  he  died,  or  floating  in 
peace  and  safety  over  a  united  and  happy  land,  we  owe,  more 
than  to  any  man  since  Washington,  to  Daniel  Webster. 

In  the  midst  of  the  almost  unbroken  eulogy,  however,  which 
was  poured  upon  him  while  living,  there  were  always  some,  it 
cannot  be  denied,  who,  incapable  of  setting  the  true  value  upon 
such  a  man,  were  continually  seeking  out  his  faults,  rather  than 
profiting  by  his  virtues.  Mr.  Webster  had  his  faults.  Would 
it  be  history,  or  eulogy,  or  flattery,  to  say  of  any  mortal,  that 
he  had  no  faults  1  It  has  been  said  that  Mr.  \Vebster  was  am- 
bitious. "  He  aspired  to  place  and  preferment,"  says  Mr. 
!Si'\vard,  "  but  not  for  the  mere  exercise  of  political  power,  and 
still  less  for  pleasurable  indulgences,  and  only  for  occasions  to 
save  and  serve'"his  country,  and  for  the  tame  which  such  noble 
actions  might  bring."  No  generous  man  will  censure  such  am- 
bition. 

It  has  been  said  that  Mr.  Webster  was  cold  and  arrogant 
He  was  so  only  to  his  enemies.  To  his  friends,  he  was  as  open 
and  as  bland  as  summer.  To  these,  he  was  ever  frank,  cor- 
dial,  and  communicative.  In  his  moments  of  relaxation,  he 
was  cheerful,  and  even  joyous ;  and  at  the  festive  board,  when 
surrounded  by  those  he  trusted  and  loved,  he  was  frequently 
talkative  and  sometimes  merry.  It  was  on  these  festive  occa- 
sions, indeed,  and  on  these  alone,  that  Mr.  Webster  sometimes, 
through  carelessness,  without  doubt,  transgressed  the  limits  of 
moderation  by  which  he  governed,  and  intended  at  all  times 
to  govern,  his  dignified  and  generally  well-ordered  and  noble 


FAULTS    AND    ACCUSATIONS.  493 

life.  Born  and  bred  at  a  period  when  the  use  of  alcohol,  in 
its  various  forms,  was  as  common  and  as  allowable  as  that  of 
water,  and  possessed  of  a  certain  respect  for  the  customs  of  his 
ancestors,  and  of  the  early  days  of  the  republic,  he  never  laid 
aside  the  using  of  it ;  but  that  he  was  habitually,  in  ordi- 
nary life,  accustomed  so  to  use  it  as  to  disturb  his  faculties,  or 
to  have  it  manifest  itself  in  his  deportment,  is  a  partisan,  news- 
paper, shallow  slander,  which  the  American  public,  in  justice  to 
their  greatest  and  best  statesman,  ought  never  to  listen  to  with- 
out expressions  of  rebuke.  History  has  nothing  better  for  it 
than  contempt. 

If  Mr.  Webster  had  any  graver  faults,  no  proof  of  them  has 
yet  transpired,  other  than  the  mercenary  reproaches  of  politi- 
cal partisans,  or  the  irresponsible  slanders  of  persons  too  low 
for  punishment,  or  for  notice,  while  he  lived.  That  he  was  a 
good  neighbor,  a  kind  father,  and  a  faithful  husband,  there  is 
not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt.  A  hireling  press  could  accuse  him 
of  habits  of  very  great  immorality.  So  it  might  have  ac- 
cused him  of  theft,  of  burglary,  of  highway  robbery,  as  well. 
It  was  forgotten  by  those  superficial  writers,  that  a  life  such  as 
they  pretend  requires  a  great  expenditure  of  time ;  and  no  sa- 
gacious man  needs  any  better  evidence  of  the  utter  recklessness 
and  wickedness  of  such  suppositions,  than  the  monuments  of 
his  labor  which  Mr.  Webster  has  left  behind  him.  He  had  no 
time  for  anything  but  his  work.  Let  any  one  consider  that, 
either  his  literary  performances,  his  legal  arguments,  his  con- 
gressional speeches,  or  his  popular  addresses,  would  have,  sep 
urately,  required  as  great  an  amount  of  mental  toil,  as  any  or 
dinary  man,  in  a  whole  life-time,  can  do  ;  but,  when  all  these  to- 
gether, compared  with  his  studies,  and  with  the  public  business 
transacted  by  him,  in  the  midst  of  private  business  that  inclu- 
ded the  management  of  two  large  estates,  are  seen  to  be  only 
a  portion  of  that  incessant,  life-long,  and  laborious  occupation 
of  his  mind,  it  is  plain  enough  that  he  had  time  only  to  be,  as  he 


494  WEBSTER    AND    HIS    M  ^STER-PIECES. 

most  truly  was,  a  good,  a  correct,  a  straight-forward  and  virtu 
cms  man. 

There  is  another  great  fact,  equally  certain,  and  equally  de- 
cisive, in  the  final  summing  up  of  Mr.  Webster's  life  and  char- 
acter. Whatever  opinions  may  havs  obtained  of  him  in  other 
countries,  or  in  distant  parts  of  his  own  country,  his  reputa- 
tion stood  higher  as  one  approached  his  home,  and  fairest  among 
his  neighbors,  who  saw  him  the  most  frequently  and  knew  him 
best  The  parish  minister  of  Maishfield,  who  had  known  him 
well,  spoke  of  him,  on  the  day  of  his  burial,  in  the  warmest 
terms  of  eulogy,  not  only  as  a  moral,  but  even  as  a  religious 
man.  Religion  is  a  thing,  however,  that  pertains  not  to  a  man's 
outward  or  public  life,  but  to  the  inward  and  unobserved  expe- 
rience of  the  soul.  While  a  man's  faults  are  open,  his  virtues, 
his  faith,  his  religious  life,  are  that  part  of  him  which  are  entirely 
unseen.  A  man's  transgressions,  or  omissions,  may  be,  and  gen- 
erally are,  noted  and  remembered  ;  the  worst  portion  of  him 
is  thus  put  on  record  ;  but  that  interior  existence,  which  con- 
sists of  regrets,  of  repentance,  of  struggles  against  ill  influen- 
ces, of  noble  efforts  after  duty,  of  high  and  holy  aspirations 
toward  a  spotless  purity  of  life,  is  a  reality  which  cannot  be 
set  up  for  exhibition,  nor  obtruded  on  the  attention  of  the 
world.  It  was  this  better  part,  this  interior  life  of  Mr.  Web- 
ster, that  was  comparatively  concealed  till  it  found  a  revelation 
over  his  last  remains.  Then  it  came  to  light.  Then  a  wid- 
owed and  heart-stricken  wife  could  utter  it ;  the  family  connec- 
tions could  speak  it ;  the  neighbors  and  friends  and  associates 
could  declare  it ;  then  the  pulpit  and  the  press  could  unite  to 
give  it  voice. 

It  now  seems,  indeed,  when  party  and  personal  prejudices 
have  generally  been  abandoned,  except  by  those  who  would 
have  joined  with  the  Jews  in  pronouncing  /ohn  a  madman,  and 
Jesus  a  wine-bibber  and  a  glutton,  that  W  jbster  had  many  of 
the  traits  of  a  Christian  character ;  that  he  was  an  ardent  ad 


HIS    CHRISTIAN    CHARACTER.  495 

rnirer  of  the  bible ;  that  he  read  it  regularly  every  day  ;  that  he 
maintained  devotional  exercises  in  his  family  ;  that  he  himself, 
on  such  occasions,  read  the  scriptures  and  led  in  prayer ;  that 
his  doctrinal  views,  though  broad  and  liberal,  were  according 
to  the  best  standards  of  religious  faith ;  that  his  views  of  the 
Almighty,  and  of  his  own  relations  to  him,  were  exceedingly 
elevated  and  consistent ;  that,  for  some  time  before  his  death, 
he  had  been  meditating  and  preparing  for  a  work  on  the  in- 
ternal evidences  of  religion  ;  that  he  had  made  all  his  plans  to 
close  up  with  the  termination  of  the  existing  administration, 
his  political  career,  and  spend  the  remainder  of  his  days  at 
Marshfield,  in  the  quiet  of  his  home,  in  religious  meditations 
and  literary  studies  ;  that,  on  the  bed  of  death,  when  the  applause 
of  the  world  had  become  nothing  to  him,  and  he  saw  himself  in 
the  very  presence  of  his  Judge,  he  could  say,  and  did  say,  that 
in  all  his  life,  he  had  generally  endeavored  to  do  his  Maker's 
will ;  that,  in  a  word,  in  religious  opinion  and  character,  he  was 
what  was  to  have  been  expected  of  a  mind  so  sound,  so  deep, 
so  clear,  so  comprehensive,  so  sublimely  great,  and  yet,  so  oc- 
cupied with  the  welfare  of  a  nation,  which  he  had  always  made 
the  first  and  the  last  great  burden  of  his  heart.  The  only  re- 
gret is,  that  a  man  so  full  of  light  did  not  let  it  shine  in  every 
place  and  in  every  thing  he  did  ;  and  yet,  this  regret  must  be 
tempered  by  the  grateful  acknowledgement  that,  in  all  his  life, 
Mr.  Webster  showed  himself  to  be  a  friend  to  Christianity,  his 
speeches  being  characterized  by  an  unvarying  respect  for  the 
Christian  faith.  Not  once  was  he  known  to  utter  a  word  dis- 
respectful to  practical  religion ;  and  more  than  once  he  has 
stood  up  in  its  defense,  before  the  country,  and  before  a  gain- 
saying world,  which,  "however  it  might  mock  inferior  advocates, 
dared  not  to  sneer  at  him.  In  these  ways,  through  a  long  and 
glorious  career,  though  simply  a  statesman,  his  light  did  shine 
HI  d  some  of  his  defenses  of  Christianity  will  be  read  and  ad 


496  WEBSTER    AND    HIS   MASTER-PIECES. 

mired  and  quoted,  in  the  pulpits  of  all  Christendom,  as  long  &s 
Christianity  itself  has  an  admirer,  or  a  friend. 

But  it  is  customary,  even  among  Christian  people,  to  with- 
hold final  judgment  of  a  man's  Christian  character,  till  it  is  seen 
how  he  makes  his  death.  The  manner  of  a  man's  death  often 
works  a  change,  sometimes  a  revolution,  in  public  opinion,  re- 
specting the  nature  of  his  life  ;  and,  judging  Mr.  Webster  ac- 
cording to  this  standard,  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  majesty 
of  his  departure  disappointed  all  but  his  nearest  and  most  fa- 
miliar friends.  The  way  in  which  he  died  was  morally  sub- 
lime. The  death-scene,  surpassing  in  moral  grandeur  all  the 
scenes  in  his  great  and  eventful  history,  and  corroborating  all 
the  encomiums  upon  his  private  character,  excites  our  wonder, 
as  if  it  were  the  close  of  a  divine's,  a  martyr's,  rather  than  a 
statesman's  life.  He  died  as  if  it  had  been  his  chief  occupa- 
tion to  prepare  for  death.  He  receives  the  announcement  of 
his  near  decease  without  a  regret,  without  a  change  of  counte- 
nance. He  calls  his  family  about  him,  and  gives  to  each  such 
words  as  dying  Christians  give  to  the  dear  ones  they  leave  be- 
hind them.  He  calls  his  friends,  talks  with  them  better  than 
the  dying  Socrates  talked  with  his,  speaking  of  his  deaU«  with 
the  utmost  tranquillity.  He  calls  his  particular  friend  and 
shows,  in  such  language  as  will  be  immortal,  that  his  grcij,  Tieart 
was  still  rich  in  friendly  feeling,  as  it  had  ever  been  full  A  'jvery 
noble  sentiment.  Having  thus  finished  his  earthly  bus-.inr  <*o,  he 
turns  his  thoughts  to  higher  and  holier  things.  He  devo!  33  his 
last  hours  to  prayer  ;  and  when  those  hours  are  over,  he  closes 
his  eyes  to  take  that  sleep,  which,  as  might  justly  be  supjosed 
by  the  sorrowful  spectators,  is  to  be  unbroken  till  the  morru'ng 
of  the  resiurection ! 

But  he  is  not  dead  !  Opening  his  eye-lids  once  more,  a'»d 
recovering  his  consciousness  again,  he  utters  those  last  and  ia<  st 
memorable  words,  which,  it  would  seem,  are  given  him  to  mi  r 
as  if  God,  not  willing  that  he  should  depart  without  a  eulo.  y 


PLACE    OF    BURIAL.  497 

and  knowing  but  one  man  able  to  pronounce  a  fitting  one,  has 
called  that  one  man  back,  after  he  has  reached  the  borders  of 
the  eternal  world,  to  return  and  pronounce  it  upon  himself. 
Ilis  great  spirit,  obedient  to  the  summons,  and  turning  to  the 
scenes  of  time  once  more,  exclaims,  "  /  still  live  !  "  and  then 
takes  its  final  departure  to  a  higher  and  a  better  sphere.  This 
is  Webster's  eulogy  ;  and  it  shall  be  his  epitaph.  It  shall  be 
cut  into  the  granite  rock  that  is  to  stand  up,  at  the  bidding  of 
his  country,  to  perpetuate  his  memory  ;  and  it  shall  be  as  true 
of  him  after  the  lapse  of  ages,  when  the  rock  itself  shall  have 
disintegrated  and  gone  no  ashes,  as  it  is  to-day. 

That  noble  form,  that  glorious  man,  whose  presence  in  the 
world  had  come  to  be  almost  a  part  of  it,  has  gone  forever  trom 
us,  as  if  we  had  fallen  upon  a  night  from  which  the  most  bril- 
liant constellation  of  the  heavens  had  forever  withdrawn  its 
beams.  He  has  gone ;  he  is  dead  ;  he  who  was  the  foremost 
man  among  us,  the  first  American  of  his  generation,  whose 
mind  has  so  long  been  the  guide  and  guardian  of  a  great  coun- 
try, now  sleeps  beneath  the  sod.  While  living,  but  thoughtful 
of  his  latter  end,  he  selected  and  prepared  his  own  resting-place ; 
and  his  friends  and  weeping  neighbors  have  laid  him  in  it.  How 
fitting  is  that  place  !  Great  in  life,  great  in  death,  he  is  greatly 
fortunate  in  having  found  a  spot  so  entirely  in  harmony  with 
his  greatness.  On  his  native  soil,  in  his  own  New  England, 
which  his  lips  had  immortalized,  near  the  home  and  the  scenes 
he  loved  so  well,  and  not  far  from  the  shore  of  the  ever-re- 
sounding sea,  they  have  laid  him  down  to  rest,  where  his  coun- 
trymen, can  visit  him  amid  the  scenes  where  he  used  to  dwell. 
Nowhere  else  in  the  wide  world  could  he  have  found  a  more 
suitable  place  of  burial.  Buried  within  the  limits  of  a  city, 
the  city  might  have  crumbled  away,  as  all  cities  must,  and 
left  him  lost  amidst  the  heaps  of  deserted  rubbish.  Buried 
near  the  capitol,  where  his  greatness  had  been  most  conspicu- 
ous, in  the  revolving  fortunes  of  such  a  country  as  this  *he  cap- 


498  WEBSTER   AND    HIS   MASTER-PIECES. 

Itol  itself  might  be  taken  down  and  removed,  leaving  his  glori 
ous  dust  in  neglect  and  solitude.  Laid  upon  the  bank  of  his 
native  river,  where  his  forefathers  sleep — rivers  themselves, 
in  the  progress  of  civilization,  have  changed  their  courses,  or 
have  been  dried  up  within  their  rocky  bed.  Nowhere,  no- 
where could  the  great  man  have  been  laid  to  rest  in  a  place  so 
consonant  to  his  character.  There,  .within  sight  of  his  cher- 
ished home,  and  on  the  ocean  shore,  he  lies.  That  home  will 
guard  him  well ;  and  that  ocean,  the  best  earthly  emblem  of 
his  greatness,  and  image  of  the  eternity  of  his  fame,  will  roll 
along  his  requiem,  when  many  a  river  shall  have  ceased  to 
flow,  and  when  cities  and  capitols  shall  have  mingled  their  ashea 
with  the  dust  of  earth ! 


THE  END. 


STANDARD  AND  POPULAR  BOOKS 

PUBLISHED  BY 

PORTER  &  SOOT,  PHILADELPHIA,  PA 


WAVERLET  NOVELS.    By  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 


*Waverley. 

*Guy  Mannering. 

The  Antiquary. 

Rob  Roy. 

Black  Dwarf;  and  Old  Mortality. 

Tba  Heart  of  Mid-Lothian. 

The  Bride  of  Lamtnermoor;    and  A 

Legend  of  Montrose. 
*I  van  hoe. 
The  Monastery. 
The  Abbott. 
Kenilworth. 


The  Fortunes  of  NigeL 

Peveri!  of  the  Peak. 

Queatiu  Durward. 

St.  Rouan'e  Weil. 

Red  gauntlet. 

The  Betrothed ;  and  The  Talisman. 

Woodstock. 

The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth. 

Anne  of  Geierstein. 

Count  Robert  of  Paris;   and  CaatU 

Dangerous. 
Chronicles  of  the  Canoagate. 


The  Pirate. 

Household  Edition.  23  vols.  Illustrated.  12iuo.  Cloth,  extra, 
black  and  gold,  per  vol.,  $1.00;  sheep,  marbled  edges,  per  vol., 
$1.50;  half  calf,  gilt,  marbled  edges,  per  vol.,  $3.00.  Sold,  sepa- 
rately in  cloth  binding  only. 

Universe  Edition.  25  vols.  Printed  on  thin  paper,  and  con- 
taining one  illustration  to  the  volume.  12iuo.  Cloth,  extra,  black 
»nd  gold,  per  vol.,  75  cts. 

World  Edition.  12  vols.  Thick  12rno.  (Sold  in  sets  only.) 
Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $18.00 ;  half  iint.  Russia,  marbled 
Jdges,  $24.00. 

This  is  the  best  edition  for  the  library  or  for  general  use  published.  lit 
•onvenient  size,  the  extreme  legibility  of  the  type,  which  is  larger  thai 
is  used  in  any  other  12mo  edition,  either  English  or  American. 

TALES  OF  A  GRANDFATHER.  By  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT,  Bart. 
4  vols.  Uniform  with  the  Waveriey  Novels. 

Household  Edition.  Illustrated.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black 
and  gold,  per  vol.,  $1.00;  sheep,  marbled  edges,  per  vol.,  $1.50; 
half  calf,  gilt,  marbled  edges,  per  vol.,  $3.00. 

This  edition  contains  the  Fourth  Scries — Tales  from  French  history — and 
is  the  only  complete  edition  published  in  this  country. 


PORTER  &  COATES     PUBLICATIONS. 


CHARLES  DICKENS'  COMPLETE  WORKS.  Author's  Edition. 
14  vols.,  with  a  portrait  of  the  author  0:1  steel,  and  eight 
illustrations  by  P.  O.  C.  Darley,  Cruikshank,  Fildes,  Eytinge, 
and  others,  in  each  volume.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and 
gold,  per  vol.,  $1.00 ;  sheep,  marbled  edges,  per  vol.,  $1.50 ;  half 
imt.  Russia,  marbled  edges,  per  vol.,  $1.50:  half  calf,  gilt 
marbled  edges,  per  vol.,  $2.75. 


^Pickwick  Papers. 

*Oliver  Twist,  Pictures  of  Italy,  and 

American  Notes. 
*Nicholas  Niekleby. 
Old  Curiosity  Shop,  and  Reprinted 

Pieses. 

Barnaby  Rudge,  and  Hard  Times. 
*Martiii  Chuzzlewit. 
Dorubey  and  Son. 
*David  Copporfield. 


Christmas  Books,  Uncommercial 
Traveller,  and  Additional 
Christmas  Stories. 

Bleak  House. 

Little  Dorrit. 

Tale  of  Two  Cities,  and  Great  Ex- 
pectations. 

Our  Mutual  Friend. 

Edwin  Drood,  Sketches,  Master 
Humphrey's  Clock,  etc.,  etc. 


Sold  separately  in  cloth  binding  only. 

*Also  in  Alta  Edition,  one  illustration,  75  cents. 

The  same.  Universe  Edition.  Printed  on  thin  paper  and  con- 
taining one  illustration  to  the  volume.  14  vols.,  12mo.  Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold,  per  vol.,  75  cents. 

The  same.  World  Edition.  7  vols.,  thick  12mo.,  $12.25.  (Sold 
in  sets  ouly.) 

CHILD'S  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  By  CHARLES  DICKENS. 
Popular  12mo.  edition ;  from  new  electrotype  plates.  Large 
clear  type.  Beautifully  illustrated  with  8  engravings  on  wood. 
12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.00. 

Alta  Edition.     One  illustration,  75  cents. 

"Dickens  as  a  novelist  and  prose  poet  is  to  l>e  classed  in  the  front  rank  of 
ihe  noble  company  to  which  he  belongs.  He  has  revived  the  novel  of  genu- 
ine practical  life,  as  it  existed  in  the  works  of  Fielding,  Smollett,  and  Gold- 
smith; but  at  the  same  time  has  given  to  his  material  an  individual  coloring 
and  expression  peculiarly  his  own.  His  characters,  like  those  of  his  great 
exemplars,  constitute  a  world  of  their  own,  whose  truth  to  nature  every 
reader  instinctively  recognizes  in  connection  with  their  truth  to  darkness." 
—E.P.  Whipple. 

MACAULAY'S  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.     From  the  accession 

of  James  II.     By  THOMAS  BABINGTON  MACAULAY.    With  a 

steel  portrait  of'  the  author.     Printed  from  new  electrotype 

plates  from  the  last  English  Edition.     Being  by  far  the  most 

correct  edition  in  the  American   market.    5  volumes,  12mo. 

Cloth,  extra,  black   and  gold,  per  set,  $5.00;   sheep,  marbled 

edges,  per  set,  $7.50;  half  imitation  Russia,  $7.50;  half  calf, 

gilt,  marbled  edges,  per  set,  $15.00. 

.Popular  Edition.    5  vols.,  cloth,  plain,  $5.00. 

8vo.  Edition.     5  volumes  in  one,  with  portrait.     Cloth,  extra, 

Hack  and  gold,  $3.00;  sheep,  marbled  edges,  $3.50. 

HARTINEAU'S  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  From  tbe  beginning 
of  the,  19th  Century  to  the  Crimean  War.  By  HAKRIET  MA.R- 
TINKAU.  Complete  in  4  vols.,  with  full  Index.  Cloth,  extra, 
black  and  gold,  per  set,  $4.00;  sheep,  marbled  edges,  $6.00;  half 
calf,  gilt,  marbled  edges,  $12.00. 


PORTER  &  COATES'    PUBLICATIONS. 


HUME'S  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  From  the  invasion  of 
Julius  Csesar  to  the  abdication  of  James  II,  1(588.  By  DAVID 
tLuME.  Standard  Edition.  With  the  author's  last  corrections 
and  improvements ;  to  which  is  prefixed  a  short  account  of 
his  life,  written  by  himself.  With  a  portrait  on  steel.  A  new 
edition  from  entirely  new  stereotype  plates.  5  vols.,  12mo. 
Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  per  set,  $5.00;  sheep,  marbled 
edges,  par  set,  $7.50;  half  imitation  Russia,  $7.50;  half  calf, 
gilt,  marbled  edges,  per  set,  $15.00. 
Popular  Edition.  5  vols.  Cloth,  plain,  $5.00. 

GIBBON'S  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF  THE  ROMAN  EMPIRE. 
By  EDWARD  GIBBON.  With  Notes,  by  Rev.  H.  II.  MILMAN. 
Standard  Edition.  To  which  is  added  a  complete  Index  of 
the  work.  A  new  edition  from  entirely  new  stereotype  plates. 
With  portrait  on  steel.  5  vols.,  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and 
gold,  per  set,  $5.00;  sheep,  marbled  edges,  per  set,  $7.50;  half 
imitation  Russia,  $7.50;  half  calf,  gilt,  marbled  edges,  per  set, 
$15.00. 
Popular  Edition.  5  vols.  Cloth,  plain,  $5.00. 

ENGLAND,   PICTURESQUE    AND    DESCRIPTIVE.     By  JOKT, 
COOK,  author  of  "  A  Holiday  Tour  in  Europe,"  etc.    With  487 
finely  engraved  illustrations,  descriptive  of  the  most  famous 
and  attractive  places,  as  well  as  of  the  historic  scenes  and 
rural  life  of  England  and  Wales.    With  Mr.  Cook's  admirable 
descriptions  of  the  places  and  the  country,  and  the  splendid  il- 
lustrations, this  is  the  most  valuable  and  attractive  book  of  the 
season,  and  the  sale  will  doubtless  be  very  large.    4to.    Cloth, 
extra,  gilt  side  and  edges,  $7.50;  half  calf,  gilt,  marbled  edges, 
$10.00;  half  morocco,  full  gilt  edges,  $10.00;  full  Turkey  mo- 
rocco, gilt  edges,  $15.00 ;  tree  calf,  gilt  edges,  $13.00. 
This  work,  which  is  prepared  in  elegant  style,  and  profusely  illustrated, 
is  a  comprehensive  description  of  England  and  Wales,  arranged  in  conve- 
nient form  for  the  tourist,  and  at  the  same  time  providing  an  illustrated 
guide-book  to  a  country  which  Americans  always  view  with  interest.  There 
*re  few  satisfactory  works  about  this  land  Which  is  so  generously  gifted  by 
Sature  and  so  full  of  memorials  of  the  past.    Such  books  as  there  are,  either 
cover  a  few  counties  or  are  devoted  to  special  Idealities,  or  are  merely  guide- 
books. The  present  work  is  believed  to  be  the  first  attempt  to  give  in  attrac- 
tive form  a  description  of  the  stately  homes,  renowned  castles,  ivy-clad  ruins 
of  abbeys,  churches,  and  ancient  fortresses,  delicious  scenery,  rock-bound 
coasts,  and  celebrated  places  of  England  and  Wales.    It  is  written  by  an 
author  fully  competent  from  travel  and  roadine,  and  in  position  to  properly 
describe  his  very  interesting  subject;  and  the  artist's  pencil  has  beeu  calm 
into  requisition  to  graphically  illustrate  its  well-written  pages.    There  are 
487  illustrations,  prepared  iu  the  highest  style  of  the  engraver's  art,  while 
the  book  itself  13  one  of  the  most  attractive  ever  presenti-d  to  the  American 
public. 

Its  method  of  construction  is  systematic,  following  the  most  convenient 
routes  taken  by  tourists,  and  the  letter-press  includes  enough  of  the  history 
and  legend  of  rach  of  the  places  described  to  make  the  story  highly  inter- 
esting. Its  pages  fairly  overflow  with  picture  and  description,  telling  of 
everything  attractive  that  is  presented  by  England  and  Wales.  Executed 
in  the  highest  style  of  the  printer's  and  engraver's  art,  "  England,  Pictur« 
esque  atid  .Descriptive,"  is  one  of  the  best  American  books  of  the  year. 


PORTER  &  COATES'   PUBLICATIONS. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR  IN  AMERICA.  By  the  COMTE 
DE  PAKIS.  With  Maps  faithfully  Eugravud  from  the  Origin- 
als, and  Printed  in  Three  Colors.  8vo.  Cloth,  per  volume, 
$3.50;  red  cloth,  extra,  Roxburgh  style,  uncut  edges,  $3.50; 
sheep,  library  style,  $4.50;  half  Turkey  morocco,  $6.00.  Vols. 
I,  II,  and  III  now  ready. 

The  third  volume  embraces,  without  abridgment,  the  fifth  and  sixth 
folumes  of  the  French  edition,  and  covers  one  of  the  most  interesting  as 
well  as  the  most  anxious  periods  of  the  war,  de.scribing  the  operations  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  iu  the  East,  aud  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  and 
Tennessee  in  the  West. 

It  contains  full  accounts  of  the  battle  of  ChanceHonville,  the  attack  of  the 
monitors  on  Fort  Siuuter,  the  sieges  arid  fall  of  Vicksbiag  and  Port  Hudson; 
the  battles  of  Port  Gibson  and  Champion's  Hill,  and  the  fullest  and  most 
authentic  account  of  the  battle  of  Gettysburg  ever  written. 

"The  head  of  the  Orleans  family  has  put  pen  to  paper  with  excellent 

result Our   present   impression   is  that  it  will  lurm  by  far  the  best 

history  of  the  American  war." — Athenaeum,  London. 

"We  advise  all  Americans  to  read  it  carefully,  and  judge  for  themselves 
if  'the  future  historian  of  our  war,'  of  whom  we  have  heard  so  much,  be  uot 
already  arrived  iu  the  Comte  de  Paris."— Nation,  Kew  York. 

'"Miis  is  incomparably  the  best  account  of  our  great  second  revolution 
thai  has  yet  been  even  attempted.  It  is  so  calm,  so  dispassionate,  so  accurate 
iu  r\ttail,  and  at  the  same  time  so  philosophical  in  general,  that  its  reader 
connts  confidently  on  finding  the  complete  work  thoroughly  satisfactory." — 
Evening  Bulletin,  Philadelphia. 

"The  work  expresses  the  calm,  deliberate  judgment  of  an  experienced 
military  observer  and  a  highly  intelligent  man.  Many  of  its  statements 
will  excite  discussion,  but  we  much  mistake  if  it  does  not  take  high  and 
permanent  ranK  among  the  standard  histories  of  the  civil  war.  Jndccd 
that  place  lias  been  assigned  it  by  the  most  competent  critics  both  of  this 
country  aud  abroad." — 2'tmes,  Cincinnati. 

"  Messrs.  Porter  &  Coates,  of  Philadelphia,  will  publish  in  a  few  days  the 
Authorized  translation  of  the  new  volume  of  the  Comte  de  Paris'  History  of 
Our  Civil  War.  The  two  volumes  in  French — the  fifth  and  sixth — are  bound 
together  iu  the  translation  in  one  volume.  Our  readers  already  know, 
through  a  table  of  contents  of  these  volumes,  published  in  the  cable  columns 
of  the  Herald,  the  period  covered  by  ibis  new  installment  of  a  work  remark- 
able in  several  ways.  It  includes  the  most  important  and  decisive  period  of 
the  war,  and  the  two  great  campaigns  of  Gettysburg  and  Vieksburg. 

"The  great  civil  war  has  had  no  better,  no  abler  historian  than  the  French 
prince  who,  emulating  the  example  of  Lafayette,  took  part  in  this  new 
struggle  for  freedom,  and  who  now  writes  of  events,  in  many  of  which  he 
participated,  as  an  accomplished  officer,  and  one  who,  by  his  independi*ut 
position,  liis  hi,'h  character  and  eminent  talents,  was  placed  in  eircum- 
•tancos  and  relations  which  gave  him  almost  unequalled  opportunities  to 
gain  correct  information  and  form  impartial  judgments. 

'•The  new  installment  of  a  work  which  has  already  become  a  classic  will 
IK-  read  with  increased  interest  by  Americans  because  of  the  importance  of 
the  period  it  covers  and  the  stirring  events  it  describes.  In  advance  of  a 
careful  review  we  present  to-day  some  extracts  from  the  advance  sheets  sent 
us  by  Messrs.  Porter  &  Coates,  which  will  give  our  readers  a  foretaste  of 
chapters  which  bring  back  to  memory  so  many  half-forgotten  and  not  a  few 
hitherto  unvalued  details  of  a  time  which  Americana  of  this  generation  at 
least  cauuot  read  of  without  a  fresh  thrill  of  excitement." 


PORTER  &  COATES'  PUBLICATIONS. 


HALF-HOURS  WITH  THE  BEST  AUTHORS.  With  short  Ri- 
ographical  and  Critical  Notes.  By  CHABLKS  KNIOHT. 

Ni-w  Household  Editiou.  With  six  portraits  on  steel.  3  vols., 
thick  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  per  set,  $4.50;  half  imt. 
Russia,  marbled  edges,  $6.00;  half  calf,  gilt,  marbled  edges,  $12.00. 

Library  Edition.  Printed  on  fine  laid  and  tinted  paper.  With 
twemty-four  portraits  on  steel.  6  vols.,  12ino.  Cloth,  extra,  per 
set,  $750;  half  calf,  gilt,  marbled  edges,  per  set,  $18.00;  half  Rus- 
sia, gilt  top,  $21.00;  full  French  morocco,  limp,  per  set,  $12.00 ; 
full  smooth  Russia,  limp,  round  cornel's,  in  Russia  case,  per  set, 
$25.00;  full  seal  grained  Russia,  limp,  round  corners,  in  Russia 
case  to  match,  $25.00. 

The  excellent  idea  of  the  editor  of  these  choice  volumes  has  been  most 
admirably  carried  out,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  list  of  authors  upon  all  sub- 
jects. S'l'Ct  ing  some  choice  passages  of  t  ho  best  standard  authors,  each  of  suffi- 
cient length  to  occupy  half  an  hour  iu  its  perusal,  there  is  here  food  for 
thought  for  every  day  in  the  year:  so  that  if  the  purchaser  will  devote  but 
one-half  hour  each  day  to  its  appropriate  selection  he  will  read  through 
tin's-  six  volum  s  in  one  year,  and  in  such  a  leisurely  manner  that  the 
noblest  thoughts  of  many  of  the  greatest  minds  will  be  firmly  in  his  miinl 
forever.  For  every  Sunday  there  is  a  suitable  selection  from  some  of  the 
most  eminent  writers  in  sacred  literature.  We  venture  to  say  if  the  editor's 
idea  is  carried  out  the  reader  will  possess  more  and  better  knowledge  of  the 
Knglish  classics  at  the  end  of  the  year  than  he  would  by  five  years  of  desul- 
tory reading. 

They  can  be  commenced  at  any  dny  in  the  year.  The  variety  of  reading 
is  so  great  that  no  one  will  ever  lire  of  these  volumes.  It  is  a  library  in 
itself. 

THE  POETRY  OF  OTHER  LANDS.     A  Collection  of  Transla- 
tions into  English  Vor.se  of  the  Poetry  of  Other  Languages, 
Ancient  <md  Modern.      Compiled  by  N.  CLEMMONS  HUNT. 
Containing  translations  from  the  Greek,  Latin,  Persian,  Ara- 
bian, Japanese,  Turkish,  Servian,  Russian,  Bohemian,  Polish, 
Dutch,   German,   Italian,    French,   Spanish,   and    Portuguese 
languages.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  gilt  edges,  $2.50 ;  half  calf,  gilt, 
marbled  edges,  $4.00 ;  Turkey  morocco,  gilt  edges,  $6.00. 
"  Another  of  the  publications  of  Porter  A  Coates,  called  'The  Poetry  of 
Other  Lands,'  compiled  ov  N.  Clemraons  Hunt,  we  most  warmly  commend. 
It  is  one  of  the  b  >st,  collections  we  have  seen,  containing  many  cxqiiisito 
poems  and  fragments  of  verse  which  have   not  before  been  put  into  book 
form  in   Kngliih   words.     \Ve  find  many  of  the  old  favorites,  which  appear 
in  every  well-selected  collection  :f  sonnets  and  songs,  and  we  miss  others, 
which  seem  a  necessity  to  complete  the   bouquet  of  grasses  and  flowers, 
some  of  which,  from  time  to  time,  we  hope  to  republish  in  the  'Courier.  '"— 


A  book  of  rare  excellence,  because  it  gives  a  collection  of  choice  gems  in 


PORTER  &  COATES1    PUBLICATIONS. 


THE  FIBESIDE  ENCYCLOPAEDIA  OF  POETRY.  Edited  by 
HENRY  T.  COATES.  This  is  the  latest,  and  beyond  doubt  the 
host  collection  of  poetry  published.  Printed  on  fine  paper  and 
illustrated  with  thirteen  steel  engravings  and  fifteen  titla 
pages,  containing  portraits  of  prominent  American  poets  and 
fac-similes  of  their  handwriting,  made  expressly  for  this  book. 
8vo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  gilt  edges,  $5.00;  half  calf, 
gilt,  marbled  edges,  $7.50;  half  morocco,  full  gilt  edges,  $7.50; 
full  Turkey  morocco,  gilt  edges,  $10.00;  tree  calf,  gilt  edges, 
$1-2.00;  plush,  padded  side,  nickel  lettering,  $14.00. 

"The  editor  shows  a  wide  acquaintance  -with  the  most  precious  treasures 
of  English  verse,  and  has  gathered  the  most  admirable  specimens  of  their 
ample  wealth.  Many  pieces  which  have  been  passed  by  in  previous  collec- 
tions hold  a  place  of  honor  in  the  present  volume,  and  will  be  heartily  wel- 
comed by  the  lovers  of  poetry  as  a  delightful  addition  to  their  sources  of 
enjoyment.  It  is  a  volume  rich  in  solace,  In  entertainment,  in  ii.spiration, 
of  which  the  possession  may  well  b;.-  coveted  by  every  lover  of  poetry.  The 
pictorial  illustrations  of  the  work  are  in  keeping  with  its  poetical  contents, 
and  the  beauty  of  the  typographic:1 1  execution  entitles  it  to  a  place  among 
the  choicest  ornaments  of  the  library." — New  York  Tribunf. 

"Lovers  of  good  poetry  will  find  tbis  one  of  the  richest  collections  ever 
made.  All  tho  best  singers  in  our  language  are,  r.  presented,  and  the  selec- 
tions are  generally  those  which  reveal  their  highest  qualities The 

lights  and  shades,  the  finer  play  of  thought  and  imagination  belonging  to 
Individual  authors,  are  brought  out.  in  this  way  (Uy  the  arrangement  of 
poems  under  subject-headings)  as  they  would  not  be  under  any  other  sys- 
tem  WTe  are  deeply  impressed  witli  the  keen  appreciation  of  poetical 

worth,  and  also  with  the  good  taste  manifested  by  the  compiler." — Chvrth- 
mnn, 

"Cyclopaedias  of  poetry  are  numerous,  but  for  sterling  value  of  its  contents 
for  tho  library,  or  as  a  book  of  reference,  no  work  of  the  kind  will  compare 
wi'h  this  admirable  volume  of  Mr.  Coatos  It  takes  the  gems  from  many 
volumes,  culling  with  rare  skill  and  judgmeut." — Chicagn  Irder-Oc&in. 

THE  CHILDREN'S  BOOK  OF  POETRY.  Compiled  by  HEXRY 
T.  COATES.  Containing  over  500  poems  carefully  selected 
from  the  works  of  the  best  and  most  popular  writers  for  chil- 
dren; with  nearly  200  illustrations.  The  most  complete  col' 
lection  of  poetry  for  children  ever  published.  4to.  Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold,  gilt  side  and  edges,  $3.00;  full  Turkey 
morocco,  gilt  edges,  $7.50. 

"This  seems  to  us  the  best  book  of  poetry  for  children  in  existence.  We 
hav  examined  many  other  collections,  but  we  cannot  name  another  that 
deserves  to  be  compared  with  this  admirable  compilation." — Woreuttr  Spy. 
"The  special  value  of  thft  book  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  nearly  or  quite 
covers  the  entire  field.  There  is  not  a  great  deal  of  good  poetry  which  hag 
been  written  for  children  that  cannot  be  found  in  this  book.  The  collection 
<»  particularly  strong  in  ballads  and  tales,  which  are  apt,  to  interest  children 
more  than  po-ms  of  other  kinds;  and  Mr.  Coates  has  shown  good  judgment 
in  supplementing  this  department  with  some  of  the  best  poems  of  that  elass 
ttiat  have  been  written  for  grown  people.  A  surer  method  of  forming  the 
taste  of  chiHren  for  good  and  pure  literature  than  by  reading  to  them  from 
anv  portion  of  this  hook  can  hardly  b»  imagined.  The  volume  is  richly 
illustrated  and  beautifully  bound." — Pkiladetpkta  Evening  Bulletin. 

"A  more  excellent  volume  cannot  be  found.  We  have  found  within  the 
covers  of  this  handsome  volume,  and  upon  its  fair  pages,  many  of  thr  most 
exquisite  poems  which  our  language  contains.  It  must  become  a  standard 
volume  and  can  never  grow  old  or  obsolete." — Episcopal  Recorder. 


PORTER  &  COATES'   PUBLICATIONS. 


THE  COMPLETE  WORKS  OF  THOS.  HOOD.  With  engravings 
on  steel.     4  vols.,  12mo.,   tinted  paper.     Poetical  Works;    Up 
the  Rhine;    Miscellanies  and  Hood's  Own;    Whimsicalities, 
Whims,  and   Oddities.     Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gojd,  $6.00; 
red  cloth,  paper  label,  gilt  top,  uncut  edges,  $6.00 ;    half  calf, 
gilt,  marbled  edges,  $14.00 ;  half  Russia,  gilt  top,  $18.00. 
Hood's  verse,  whether  serious  or  eomic — whether  serene  like  a  cloudiest 
autumn  evening  or  sparkling  with    puns  like  a  frosty  January  midnight 
•with  stars — was  ever  pregnant  with  materials  for  the  thought.    Like  every 
author  distinguished  for  true  comic  humor,  there  was  a  deep  vein  of  melan- 
choly pathos  running  through  his  mirth,  and  even  when  his  sun  shone 
brightly  its  light  seemed  often  reflected  as  if  only  over  the  rim  of  a  cloud. 

Well  may  we  say,  in  the  words  of  Tenuysou,  "Would  he  could  have 
stayed  with  us."  for  never  could  it  be  more  truly  recorded  of  any  one — in 
the'  words  of  Hamlet  characterizing  Yorick — that  "he  was  a  ft-llow  of  in- 
finite jest,  of  most  excellent  fancy."  D.  M.  MOIB. 

THE     ILIAD    OF    HOMER    RENDERED    INTO    ENGLISH 

BLANK    VERSE.     By    EDWARD,   EARL  OF   DERBY.     From 

the  latest  London  edition,  with  all  the  author's  last  revisions 

and   corrections,  and   with   a   Biographical    Sketch    of  Lord 

Derby,  by  R.  SHELTON    MACKENZIE,   D.C.L.     With    twelve 

steel  engravings  from  Flaxman's  celebrated  designs.     2  vols., 

12mo.    Cloth,  extra,  bev.  boards,  gilt  top,  $3.50;  half  calf,  gilt, 

marbled  edges,  $7.00 ;  half  Turkey  morocco,  gilt  top,  $7.00. 

The  same.     Popular  edition.    Two  vols.  in  one.     12mo.    Cloth, 

extra,  $1  50. 

"It  must  equally  be  considered  a  splendid  performance;  and  for  the  pres- 
ent we  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  it  is  by  far  the  best  representation 
of  Homer's  Iliad  in  th«  English  language." — London  Times. 

"The  merits  of  Lord  Derby's  translation  may  be  summed  up  in  one  word, 
it  is  eminently  attractive;  it  is  instinct,  with  life ;  it  may  be  read  with  fervent 
interest;  it  is  immeasurably  nearer  than  Pope  to  the  text  of  the  original.  . 
.  .  .  Lord  Derby  has  given  a  version  far  more  closely  allied  to  the  original, 
and  superior  to  any  that  has  yet  been  attempted  in  the  blank  verse  of  our 
language." — Edinburg  Review. 

THE  WORKS  OF  FLAVIUS  JOSEPHUS.  Comprising  the  Anti- 
quities of  the  Jews;  a  History  of  the  Jewish  Wars,  and  a  Life 
of  Flavius  Joseplms,  written  by  himself.  Translated  from  the 
original  Greek,  by  WILLIAM  WHISTOX,  A.M.  Together  with 
numerous  explanatory  Notes  and  seven  Dissertations  concern- 
ing Jesus  Christ,  John  the  Baptist,  James  the  Just,  God's  com- 
mand to  Abraham,  etc.,  with  an  Introductory  Essay  by  Rev. 
H.  STEBBING,  D.D.  8vo.  Cloth,  extra,  black' and  gold,  plain 
edges,  $'5  00;  cloth,  nnl.  black  and  gold,  gilt  edges,  $4.50;  sheep, 
marbled  edges,  $'5. 50;  Turkey  morocco,  gilt  edges,  $8.00. 
This  is  the  largest  type  one  volume  edition  published. 

THE  ANCIENT  HISTORY  OF  THE  EGYPTIANS,  CARTHA- 
GINIANS, ASSYRIANS,  BABYLONIANS,  MEDES  AND 
PERSIANS.  GRECIANS  AND  MACEDONIANS  Including 
a  History  of  the  Arts  and  Sciences  of  the  Ancients.  By 
CHARLES  ROLLIN.  With  a  Life  of  the  Author,  by  JAMES 
BELL.  2  vols.,  roval  8vo.  Sheep,  marbled  edges,  per  set,  $6.00. 


8  PORTED  &  COATES'    PUBLICATIONS. 

COOKERY  FROM  EXPERIENCE.  A  Practical  Guide  for  House- 
keepers in  the  Preparation  of  Every-day  Meals,  containing 
more  than  One  Thousand  Domestic  Recipes,  ruostly  tested  by 
Personal  Experience,  with  Suggestions  for  Meals,  lists  of 
Meats  and  Vegetables  in  Season,  etc.  By  Mrs.  SARA  T.  PAUI. 
12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50. 
Interleaved  Edition.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.75. 

THE  COMPARATIVE  EDITION  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 
Both  Versions  in  One  Book. 

The  proof  readings  of  our  Comparative  Edition  have  been  gone 
over  by  so  many  competent  proof  readers,  that  we  believe  the  text 
is  absolutely  correct. 

Large  12rno.,  700  pp.  Cloth,  extra,  plain  edges,  $1.50;  cloth, 
extra,  bevelled  boards  and  carmine  edges,  $1.75;  imitation  panelled 
calf,  yellow  edges,  $2.00;  arabesque,  gilt  edges,  $2.50;  French  mo- 
rocco, limp,  gilt  edges,  $4.00;  Turkey  morocco,  limp,  gilt  edges, 
$6.00. 

The  Comparative  New  Testament  has  been  published  by  Porter  &  Coates. 
In  parallel  columns  on  each  page  are  given  the  old  and  new  versions  of  the 
Testament,  divided  also  as  far  as  practicable  into  comparative  versos,  so  that 
it  is  almost  impossible  for  the  slightest  new  word  to  escape  the  notice  of 
either  the  ordinary  reader  or  the  analytical  student.  It  is  decidedly  the 
best  edition  yet  published  of  the  most  interest-exciting  literary  production 
of  the  day.  No  more  convenient  form  for  comparison  could  be  devised 
either  for  economizing  time  or  labor.  Another  feature  Is  the  foot-notes, 
and  there  is  also  given  in  an  appendix  the  various  words  and  expressions 
preferred  by  the  American  members  of  the  .Revising  Commission.  The 
work  is  handsomely  printed  on  excellent  paper  with  clear,  legible  type.  It 
contains  nearly  700  pages. 

THE  COUNT  OF  MONTE  CRISTO.  By  ALEXANDRE  DUMAS. 
Complete  in  one  volume,  with  two  illustrations  by  George  G. 
White.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

THE  THREE  GUARDSMEN.    By  ALEXANDRE  DUMAS.    Com- 
plete in  one  volume,  with    two   illustrations   by   George   G. 
White.     12mo.     Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 
There  is  a  magic  influence  in  his  pen,  n  magnetic  attraction  in  his  descrip- 
tions, a  fertility  in  his  literary  resources  which  are  characteristic  of  Pumas 
alone,  and  the  seal  of  the  master  of  light  literature  is  set  upon  all  his  works. 
Kven  when  not  strictly  historical,  his  romances  give  an   insight  into  the 
habits  and  modes  of  thought  and  action  of  the  people  of  the  lime  described, 
which  are  not  offered  in  any  other  author's  productions. 

THE  LAST  D.AYS  OF  POMPEII.  By  Sir  EDWARD  BULWEB 
LYTTON,  Bart.  Illustrated.  12nio.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and 
gold,  $1.00.  Alta  edition,  one  illustration,  75  ets. 

JANE  EYRE.  By  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE  (Currer  Bell).  New  Li- 
brary Edition.  With  five  illustrations  by  E.  M.  WIMPERIS. 
12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.00. 

SHIRLEY.  By  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE  (CurrerB  •!! ).  New  Library 
Edition.  With  five  illustrations  by  E.  M.  WIMPERIS.  12ma 
Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  Sl.OO. 


PORTER  A  COATES'   PUBLICATIONS. 


VILLETTE.  By  CHABLOTTE  BRONTE  (Cnrrer  Bell).  New  Library 
Edition.  With  five  illustrations  by  E.  M.  WIMPERIS.  12mo. 
Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.00. 

THE  PROFESSOR,  EMMA  and  POEMS.    By  CHARLOTTE  BRONT* 
(Currer  Bell).     New  Library  Edition.     With  five  illustration* 
by  E.  M.  WIMPERIS.    12iuo.    Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.00. 
Cloth,  extra,  black  and   gold,  per  set,  $4.00;    red  cloth,  paper 
'abel,  gilt  top,  uncut  edges,  per  set,  $5.00;   half  calf,  gilt,  per  set, 
$12.00.    The  four  volumes  forming  the  complete  works  of  Char- 
lotte Bront«  (Currer  Bellj. 

The  wondrous  power  of  Currer  Bell's  stories  consists  in  their  fiery  insight 
into  the  human  heart,  their  merciless  dissection  of  passion,  aud  their  stern 
analysis  of  character  aud  motive.  The  style  of  these  productions  possesses 
incredible  force,  sometimes  almost  grim  in  its  bare  severity,  then  relapsing 
into  passages  of  melting  pathos— always  direct,  natural,  and  effective  in  its 
unpretending  strength.  They  exhibit  the  identity  which  always  belongs  to 
works  of  genius  by  the  same  author,  though  without  the  slightest  approach 
to  monotony.  The  characters  portrayed  by  Currer  Bell  all  have  a  strongly 
marked  individuality.  Once  brought  before  the  imagination,  they  haunt 
the  memory  like  a  strange  dream.  The  sinewy,  muscular  strength  of  her 
writings  guarantees  their  permanent  duration,  and  thus  far  they  have  lost 
nothing  of  their  intensity  of  interest  since  the  period  of  their  composition. 

CAPTAIN  JACK  THE  SCOUT;  or,  The  Indian  Wars  about  Old 
Fort  Duqui'sae.  An  Historical  Novel,  with  copious  notes. 
By  CHARLES  MCKNIGHT.  Illustrated  with  eight  engravings. 
12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50. 

A  work  of  such  rare  merit  and  thrilling  interest  as  to  have  been  repnb- 
lislied  both  in  England  and  Germany.  This  genuine  American  historical 
work  has  been  received  with  extraordinary  popular  favor,  and  has  "  won 
golden  opinions  from  all  sorts  of  people"  for  its  freshness,  its  forest  life  and 
its  fidelity  to  truth.  In  many  instances  it  even  corrects  History  and  uses 
the  drapery  of  fiction  simply  to  enliven  and  illustrate  the  fact. 

It  is  a  universal  favorite  with  boih  sexes,  and  with  all  ages  and  condi- 
tions, and  is  not  only  proving  a  marked  and  notable  success  in  this  country, 
but  has  been  eagerly  taken  up  abroad  aud  republished  in  London,  England, 
and  issued  iutwo  volumes  iu  the  far-famed  "Tauehuetz  Edition"  of  Leipsic, 
Germany. 

ORANGE  BLOSSOMS,  FRESH  AND  FADED.    By  T.  S.  ARTHUR. 

Illustrated.  12ino.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50. 
"Orange  Blossoms"  contains  a  number  of  short  stories  of  society.  Like 
all  of  Mr.  Arthur's  works,  it  has  a  special  moral  purpose,  and  is  especially 
addressed  to  the  young  who  have  just  entered  the  marital  experience,  whom 
it  pleasantly  warns  against  those  social  and  moral  pitfalls  into  which  they 
may  almost  innocently  plunge. 

THE  BAR  ROOMS  AT  BRANTLEY;  or,  The  Great  Hotel  Spec- 
ulation.  By  T.  S.  ARTHUR.  Illustrated.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra, 
black  and  gold,  $1.50. 

"One  of  the  best  temperance  stories  recently  issued."— .V.  1'.  Commercial 
Advertiser. 

"Although  it  Is  in  the  form  of  a  novel,  its  truthful  delineation  of  charac- 
ters is  such  that  in  every  village  in  the  land  you  meet  the  broken  manhood 
it  pictures  upon  thp  street <,  and  look  upon  sad.  tcar-di mined  eyes  of  women 
and  children.  The  characters  are  not  overdrawn,  but  are  as  truthful  as  an 
artist's  pencil  could  make  them." — Inter-Ocean,  Chicago. 


JO  PORTER  &  COATES'   PUBLICATIONS. 

EMMA.    By  JANE  AUSTEN.     Illustrated.      12mo.     Cloth,  extra. 
$1.25. 

MANSFIELD  PARK.     By  JANE  AUSTEN.     Illustrated.     12mo. 
Cloth,  extra,  $1.23. 

PEIDE  AND  PREJUDICE;  and  Northanger  Abbey.    By  JANB 
AUSTEN.    Illustrated.    12mo.    Cloth,  extra,  $1.25. 

SENSE  AND  SENSIBILITY;  and  Persuasion.  By  JANE  AUSTEN. 
Illustrated.    12mo.    Cloth,  extra,  $1.25. 

The  four  volumes,  forming  the  complete  works  of  Jane  Austen, 
In  a  neat  box:  Cloth,  extra,  per  set,  $5.00 ;  red  cloth,  paper  label, 
gilt  top,  uucut  edges,  $5.00 ;  half  calf,  gilt,  per  set,  $12.00 


ART  AT  HOME.  Containing  in  one  volume  House  Decoration, 
by  RHODA  and  AGNES  GAKRETT;  Plea  for  Art  in  the  House, 
by  W.  J.  LOFTIE;  Music,  by  JOHN  HULLAII  ;  and  Dress,  by 
Mrs.  OLIPHANT.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50. 

TOM   BROWN'S   SCHOOL   DAYS  AT   RUGBY.     By   THOMAS 
HUGHES.     New  Edition,  large  clear  type.    With  36  illustra- 
tions after  Caldecott  and  others.     12mo.,  400  pp.     Cloth,  extra, 
black  and  gold,  $1.25;  half  calf,  gilt,  $2.75. 
Alta  Edition.     One  illustration,  75  cents. 

"It  is  difficult  to  estimate  the  amount  of  good  which  may  be  done  by 
'Tom  Brown's  School  Days.'  It  gives,  in  the  main,  a  most  faithful  and 
interesting  picture  of  our  public  schools,  the  most  English  institutions  of 
Knglancl,  and  which  educate  the  best  and  most  powerful  elements  in  otir 
upper  classes.  But  it  is  more  than  this;  it  is  an  attempt,  a  very  noble  and 
successful  attempt,  to  Christianize  the  society  of  our  youth,  through  the 
only  practicable  channel— hearty  and  brotherly  sympathy  with  their  feel- 
ings; a  book,  in  short,  which  a  father  might  well  wish  to  see  in  the  baud* 
of  his  son." — London  Times. 

TOM  BROWN  AT  OXFORD.  By  THOMAS  HUGHES.  Illustrated. 
12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50;  half  calf,  gilt,  $3.00. 

"Fairly  entitled  to  the  rank  and  dignity  of  an  English  classic.  Plot,  style 
and  truthfulness  are  of  the  soundest,  British  character.  Racy,  idiomatic, 
mirror-like,  always  interesting,  suggesting  thought  on  the  knottiest  social 
ant.  religions  questions,  now  deeply  moving  by  its  unconscious  pathos,  and 
anon  inspiring  uproarious  laughter,  it  is  a  work  the  world  will  not  willingly 
let  die."— N.  Y.  Cfirittian  Advocate. 


PORTER   &  COATES'   PUBLICATIONS.  11 

SENSIBLE  ETIQUETTE  OF  THE  BEST  SOCIETY.  By  Mrs. 
H.  O.  WARD.  Customs,  manners,  morals,  and  home  culture, 
with  suggestions  how  to  word  notes  and  letters  of  invitations, 
acceptances,  and  regrets,  and  general  instructions  as  to  calls, 
rules  for  watering  places,  lunches,  kettle  drums,  dinners,  re- 
ceptions, weddings,  parties,  dress,  toilet  and  manners,  saluta- 
tions, introductions,  social  reforms,  etc.,  etc.  Bound  in  cloth, 
with  gilt  edge,  and  sent  by  mail,  postage  paid,  on  receipt  of 
$2.00. 

LADIES'  AND  GENTLEMEN'S  ETIQUETTE:  A  Complete 
Manual  of  the  Manners  and  Dress  of  American  Society.  Con- 
taining forms  of  Letters,  Invitations,  Acceptances,  and  Beprets. 
With  a  copious  index.  By  E.  B.  DUFFEY.  12ino.  Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50. 

"It  is  peculiarly  an  American  book,  especially  adapted  to  onr  people,  and 
Its  greatest  beauty  is  found  in  the  fact  that  in  every  line  and  precept  it  in- 
culcates the  principles  of  true  politeness,  instead  of  tbo«e  formal  rules  that 
serve  only  to  gild  the  surface  without  affecting  the  substance.  It  is  admir- 
ably written,  the  style  being  char,  terse,  and  loreible."— St.  Louis  Times. 

THE  UNDEEGEOUND  CITY;  or,  The  Child  of  the  Cavern. 
By  JULES  VERNE.  Translated  from  the  French  by  W.  H. 
KINGSTON.  With  43  illustrations.  Standard  Edition.  12rno. 
Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50. 

ABOUND  THE  WOELD  IN  EIGHTY  DAYS.  By  JULES  VERNE. 
Translated  by  GEO.  M.  TOWLE.  With  12  full-page  illustrations. 
12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

AT  THE  NOETH  POLE ;  or,  The  Voyages  and  Adventures  of 
Captain  Hatteras.  By  JULES  VERNE.  With  130  illustrations 
by  Eiou.  Standard  Edition.  12rno.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and 
gold,  $1.25. 

THE  DESEET  OF  ICE ;  or,  The  Further  Adventures  of  Captain 
Hatteras.  By  JULES  VERNE.  With  126  illustrations  by  Eiou. 
Standard  Edition.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

TWENTY  THOUSAND  LEAGUES  UNDEE  THE  SEAS;  or, 
The  Marvellous  and  Exciting  Adventures  of  Pierre  Aronnax, 
Conseil  his  servant,  and  Ned  Land,  a  Canadian  Harpooner.  By 
JULES  VERNE.  Standard  Edition.  Illustrated.  12mo.  Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

THE  WEECK  OF  THE  CHANCELLOE,  Diary  of  J.  E.  Kazallon, 

Passenger,  and  Martin  Psiz.     By  JULKS  VKKME.     Translated 

from  the  French  by  ELLEN  FREWER.     With  10  illustrations. 

Standard  Edition.     12mo.     Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

Jules  Verne  is  so  well  known  that  the  mere  announcement  of  anythicg 

from  his  pen  is  >nfficient  to  create  a  demand  for  it.    One  of  his  chief  merits 

ts  the  wonderful  art  with  which  he  lays  under  contribution  every  branch  of 

science  and  natural  history,  while  he  vividly  describes  with  minuto  exact- 

ness  all  parts  of  the  world  an4  its  inhabitants. 


12  PORTER  &  CO  AXES'   PUBLICATIONS. 

THE  INGOLDSBY  LEGENDS;  or,  >firth  and  Marvels.  By 
RICHARD  HARRIS  BAKHAM  (Thomas  Ingoldsby,  Esq.).  New 
edition,  printed  from  entirely  new  stereotype  plates.  Illus- 
trated. 12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50;  half  calf, 
gilt,  marbled  edges,  $3.00. 

"Of  his  poetical  powers  it  is  not  too  ranch  to  say  that,  for  originality  of 
design  and  diction,  for  grand  illustration  and  mifsical  verse,  tht-y  are  not 
aurpassed  in  the  English  language.  The  Witches'  Frolic  is . second  only  to 
Tarn  O'Shanter.  But  why  recapitulate  the  titles  of  either  prose  or  verse — 
since  they  have  been  confessed  hy  every  judgment  to  be  singularly  rich  in 
classic  allusion  and  modern  illustration.  From  the  days  of  Hudibras  to  our 
time  the  drollery  invested  in  rhymes  has  never  bet-u  su  amply  or  lelicitously 
exemplified." — jBentley's  Miscellany. 

TEN  THOUSAND  A  YEAR.  By  SAMUEL  C.  WARREN,  author  of 
"The  Diary  of  a  London  Physician."  A  new  edition,  care- 
fully revised,  with  three  illustrations  by  GEORGE  G.  WHITE. 
12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1  50. 

"Mr.  Warren  has  taken  a  lasting  place  amon^  the  imaginative  writers  of 
this  period  of  English  history.  He  possesses,  in  a  remarkable  manner,  the 
tenderness  of  heart  and  vividness  of  feeling,  as  well  as  powers  of  description, 
which  are  essential  to  the  delineation  of  the  pathetic,  and  which,  when 
existing  in  the  degree  in  which  he  enjoys  them,  fill  his  pages  with  scenes 
which  can  never  be  forgotten." — Sir  Archibald  Alisun. 

THOMPSON'S  POLITICAL  ECONOMY;  With  Especial  Refer- 
ence to  the  Industrial  History  of  Nations.  By  Prof.  R.  E. 
THOMPSON,  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania.  12nio.  Cloth, 
extra,  $1.50. 

This  book  possesses  an  especial  interest  at  the  present  moment.  The 
questions  of  Free  Trade  and  Protection  are  before  the  country  more  directly 
than  at  any  earlier  period  of  our  history.  As  a  rule  the  works  and  text- 
books used  in  our  American  colleges  are  either  of  English  origin  or  teach 
Doctrines  of  a  political  economy  which,  as  Walter  Bagehot  says,  was  made 
for  England.  Prof.  Thompson  belongs  to  the  Nationalist  School  ot  Econo- 
mists, to  which  Alexander  Hamilton,  Tench  Coxe,  Henry  Clay,  Matthew 
Carey,  and  his  greater  son,  Henry  C.  Carey,  Stephen  Colwell,  and  James 
Abram  (iarfield  were  adherents.  He  believes  in  that  policy  of  Protection 
to  American  industry  which  has  had  the  sanction  of  every  great  American 
statesman,  not  excepting  Thomas  Jefferson  and  John  C.  Calhoun.  'He  makes 
his  appeal  to  history  in  defence  of  that  policy,  showing  that  wherever  a 
weaker  or  less  advanced  country  has  practiced  Free  Trade  with  one  more 
powerful  or  richer,  the  former  has  lost  its  industries  as  well  as  its  money, 
and  has  become  economically  dependent  on  tiie  latter.  Those  who  wish 
to  learn  what  is  the  real  source  of  Irish  poverty  and  discontent  will  find  it 
here  stated  fully. 

The  method  of  the  book  is  historical.  It  is  therefore  no  series  of  dry  and 
abstract  reasonings,  such  as  repel  readers  from  books  of  this  cla  s.  The 
writer  does  not  ride  the  a  priori  nag,  and  say  "this  must  be  so,"  and  "  that 
must  be  conceded."  He  shows  what  has  been  true,  and  seeks  to  elicit  th€ 
laws  of  the  science  from  the  experience  of  the  world.  The  book  overtlows 
with  facts  told  in  an  iutero.sting  manuer. 

THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE  IN  ITS  THREE  HOMES,  and  the 
Practical  Bearings  of  general  European  History.  By  EDWARD 
A.  FREEMAN,  LL.D.,  Author  of  the  "Norman  Conquest  of 
England."  12mo.  Cloth,  extra, 


PORTER  &  COATES'    PUBLICATIONS.  13 


HANDY  ANDY.  A  Tale  of  Irish  Life.   By  SAMUEL  LOVER.  New 
Library  Edition,  with  two  original  illustrations  by  GEORGE  G. 
WHITE.     12ino.    Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 
"Decidedly  the  best  story  of  the  day,  full  of  frolic,  genuine  fun,  and  ex- 
quisite touches  of  Irish  humor." — Dublin  Monitor. 

CHARLES  O'MALLEY,  The  Irish  Dragoon.  By  CHARLES  LEVER. 
New  Library  Edition,  with  two  original  illustrations  by  F.  O. 
C.  DARLEY.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

HARRY  LORREQUER.  By  CHARLES  LEVER.  New  Library 
Edition,  with  two  original  illustrations  by  GEO.  G.' WHITE. 
12nio.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

"The  intense  spirit  and  frolic  of  the  author's  sketches  have  made  him 
one  of  the  most  successful  writers  of  the  day." — London  Literary  Gazette. 

"The  author  is  pre-eminent  for  his  mirth-moving  powers,  for  his  acute 
sense  of  the  ridiculous,  for  the  breadth  of  his  humor,  and  his  powers  of 
dramatic  writing  which  render  his  boldest  conceptions  with  the  happiest 
facility." — London  Athenaeum. 

"We  hardly  know  how  to  convey  an  adequate  notion  of  the  exuberant 
•whim  and  drollery  by  which  this  writer  is  characterized.  His  works  are  a 
perpetual  feast  of  gayety."— John  Bull,  London. 

POPULAR   NATURAL   HISTORY.      By  the  Rev.  J.  G.  WOOD, 
M.A.     From  entirely  new  electrotype  plates,  with  five  hun- 
dred illustrations  by  eminent  artists.      Crown  8vo.      Cloth, 
extra,  black  and. gold,  $1.75. 
Mr.  Wood  is  an  amusing,  instructive,  and   sensible  writer — always  doing 

good  work  in  a  good  way — and  his  work  on  Natural  History  is  without 

doubt  his  masterpiece. 

THE  ODES  OF  HORACE.    Translated  into  English  verse,  with 
Life  and  Notes,  by  THEODORE  MARTIN.     With  a  fine  portrait 
of  Horace.    16mo.    Cloth,  extra,  $1.00. 
Mr.  Martin's  translation  has  been  commended  as  preserving— more  than 

any  other— the  spirit  and  grace  of   the  original.    It  is  the  most  successful 

attempt  ever  made  to  render  into  English  the  inimitable  odes  of  Horace. 

The  memoir  prefixed  to  the  volume  is  a  most  chaiming  piece  of  biography. 

GREEK  MYTHOLOGY  SYSTEMATIZED.  With  complete  Tables 
based  on  Hesiod's  Theogony ;  Tables  showing  the  relation  of 
Greek  Mythology  and  History,  arranged  from  Grote's  History 
of  Greece;  and  Gladstone's  Homeric  Tables.  With  a  full 
Index.  By  S.  A.  SCULL.  Profusely  illustrated.  12nio.  Cloth, 
black  and  gold,  $1.50. 

"A  book  which  will  prove  very  useful  to  the  student  and  man  of  letters, 
and  of  incalculable  benefit  as  a  hand-book."— Republic,  Washington. 

"A  real  want  is  supplied  by  this  book,  which  is,  in  fact,  a  cyclopaedia  of 
Greek  Mythology,  so  far  as  that  is  possible  in  a  single  volume  of  reasonable 
size  and  moderate  cost." — Evening  Mail,  New  York. 

"This  text-book  on  Mythology  presents  the  subject  in  a  more  practical 
and  more  attractive  style  than  any  other  work  on  the  subject  with  winch 
we  are  familiar,  and  we  feel  assured  that  it  will  at  once  take  a  leading  posi- 
tion among  books  of  its  class." — The  Teacher,  Philadelphia. 


14  PORTER   &  COATES'    PUBLICATIONS. 


THE  IMITATION  OF  CHRIST.  By  THOMAS  a  KEMPIS.  New 
and  best  edition,  from  entirely  new  electrotype  plates,  single 
column,  large,  clear  type.  18mo. 

Plain  Edition,  rouud  corners.  Cloth,  extra,  red  edges,  50  cents  ; 
French  morocco,  gilt  cross,  75  cents;  limp  Russia,  inlaid  cross,  red 
under  gold  edges,  $-2.00. 

Red  Line  Edition,  round  corners.  Cloth,  black  and  gold,  red 
edges,  75  cents;  cloth,  black  aiid  gold,  gilt  edges,  $1.00;  French 
morocco,  red  under  gold  edges,  $1.50;  limp  Russia,  inlaid  cross,  red 
under  gold  edges,  $2.50;  limp  Russia,  solid  gilt  edges,  box  circuit, 
$3.00;  limp  calf,  red  under  gold  edges,  $2.50;  limp  calf,  solid  gilt 
edges,  box  circuit,  $3.00. 

THE  WORDS  AND  MIND  OF  JESUS  AND  FAITHFUL  PROM- 

ISER.    By  Rev.  J.  R.  MACDUFF,  D.D.,  author  of  "  Morning  an&. 

Night  Watches."    New  and  best  edition,  from  entirely  new 

electrotype  plates,  single  column,  large,  clear  type.    18mo. 

Plain  Edition,  round  corners.     Cloth,  extra,  red  edges,  50  cents; 

French  morocco,  gilt  cross,  75  cents ;  limp  Russia,  inlaid  cross,  red 

under  gold  edges,  $2.00. 

Red  Line  Edition,  round  corners.     Cloth,  black  and  gold,  red 

edges,  75  cents ;  cloth,  black  and  gold,  gilt  edges,  $1.00 ;  liinp  calf 

or  Russia,  red  under  gold  edges,  $2.50. 

A  DICTIONARY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  Comprising  its  Antiquities, 
Biography,  Geography,  Natural  History,  and  Literature. 
Edited  by  WILLIAM  SMITH,  LL.D.  Revised  and  adapted  to 
the  present  use  of  Sunday-school  Teachers  and  Bible  Students 
by  Rev.  F.  N.  and  M.  A.  PELOUBET.  With  eight  colored  maps 
and  over  350  engravings  on  wood.  8vo.  Cloth,  extra,  black 
and  gold,  $2.00;  sheep,  marbled  edges,  $3.00;  half  morocco, 
gilt  top,  $3.50. 

"No  similar  work  in  our  own  or  in  any  other  language  is  for  a  moment  to 
be  compared  with  Dr.  Smith's  Dictionary  of  the  Bible.  The  Christian  and 
the  scholar  have  a  treasure-house  on  every  subject  connected  with  the 
Bible,  full  to  overflowing,  and  minute  even  to  the  telling  of  mint  and  cum- 
min."— London  Quarterly  Review. 

COMPREHENSIVE  BIOGRAPHICAL  DICTIONARY.  Embra- 
cing accounts  of  the  most  eminent  persons  of  all  ages,  nations, 
and  professions.  By  E.  A.  THOMAS.  Crown  8vo.  Cloth,  extra, 
gilt  top,  $2.50;  sheep,  marbled  edges,  $3.00;  half  morocco,  gilt 
top,  $3.50;  half  Russia,  gilt  top,  $4.50. 

The  aim  of  the  publishers  in  issuing  this  work  in  to  present  in  convenient 
size  and  at  moderate  price  a  comprehensive  dictionary  of  biography,  em- 
bracing accounts  of  the  most  eminent  personages  in  all  ages,  countries,  and 
professions. 

During  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  so  many  important  events  have  beon 
enacted,  such  as  the  Civil  War  in  America  and  the  Franco-Prussian  War  of 
1870,  and  such  great  advances  have  been  made  in  the  line  of  invention  and 
scientific  investigation,  that  within  that  period  many  persons  have  risen  by 
superior  merit  to  conspicuous  positions;  and  as  the  plan  of  this  work  em- 
braces accounts  of  the  living  as  well  as  of  the  dead,  many  names  are  In- 
cluded that  are  not  to  be  found  in  other  dictionaries  of  biography. 


PORTER  &  COATE9'  PUBLICATIONS.          15 


THE  HORSE  IN  THE  STABLE  AND  THE  FIELD.    His  Man- 
agement in  Health  and  Disease.     By  J.  H.  WALSH,  F.E.C.S. 
(Stonehenge.)      From  the  last  London  edition.      Illustrated 
with  over  80  engravings,  and  full-page  engravings  from  photo- 
graphs.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  bev.  boards,  black  and  gold,  $2.00, 
"  It,  sustains  its  claim  to  be  the  only  work  which  has  brought  together  in 
a  single  volume,  and  in  clear,  concise,  and  comprehensive  language,  adequate 
information  on  the  various  subjects  on  which  it  treats." — Harper's  Magazvne. 
"This  is  the  best  Knglish  book  on  the  horse,  revised  and  improved  by 
competent  persons  for  publication  in  this  country.    It  is  the  most  complete 
work  on  the  subject,  probably,  in  the  English  language,  and  that,  of  course, 
•means  the  most  complete  in  existence.    Everything  relating  to  a  horse  that 
history,  science,  observation,  or  practical  knowledge  can  furnish,  has  a  place 
in  it."—  Worcester  Daily  Spy. 

THE  HORSE.  By  WILLIAM  YOUATT,  together  with  a  General 
History  of  the  Horse ;  a  dissertation  on  the  American  Trotting 
Horse,  and  an  essay  on  the  Ass  and  the  Mule.  By  J.  S.  SKIN- 
NKR.  With  a  beautiful  engraving  on  steel  of  the  famous 
"West  Australian,"  and  58  illustrations  on  wood.  8vo.  Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.75. 

BOOK  OF  THE  FARM.  The  Handy-book  of  Husbandry.  Con- 
taining Practical  Information  in  Regard  to  Buying  or  Leasing 
a  Farm ;  Fences  and  Farm  Buildings,  Farming  Implements, 
Drainage,  Plowing,  Subsoiling,  Manuring,  Rotation  of  Crops, 
Care  and  Medical  Treatment  of  the  Cattle,  Sheep,  and  Poul- 
try; Management  of  the  Dairy;  Useful  Tables,  etc.  By 
GEORGE  E.  WARING,  JR.,  of  Ogden  Farm,  author  of  "  Drain- 
ing for  Profit  and  for  Health,"  etc.  New  edition,  thoroughly 
revised  by  the  author.  With  100  illustrations.  12mo.  Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold,  $2.00. 

AMERICAN  ORNITHOLOGY;  or,  The  Natural  History  of  the 
Birds  of  the  United  States.  By  ALEXANDER  WILSON  and 
CHARLES  LUCIEN  BONAPARTE.  Popular  Edition,  complete  in 
one  volume  imperial  octavo.  1200  pages  and  nearly  400  illus- 
trations of  birds.  Formerly  published  at  $100;  now  published 
at  the  low  price:  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $7.50;  half 
morocco,  marbled  edges,  $12.50. 

This  large  and  handsome  volume,  printed  in  a  superior  manner  on  good 
paper  from  the  original  stereotype  plates  of  the  larger  edition,  contains  the 
Lite  of  Wilson,  occupying  132  pages;  a  full  Catalogue  rtf  North  American 
Birds,  furnished  by  Professor  Spencer  F.  Baird,  of  the  Smithsonian  Institu- 
tion;  Complete  Index,  with  the  names  of  over  900  birds  described  in  the 
text,  and  is  illustrated  with  nearly  400  figures  of  birds  engraved  on  wood. 
It  is  exactly  the  same  size  as  the  larger  edition,  with  the  exception  that  the 
engravings  are  reduced  in  size  and  are  not  colored,  reproducing  every  line 
of  the  original  edition.  It  is  one  of  the  best,  books  of  permanent  value 
(strictly  an  American  hook)  ever  published,  noted  for  its  beauty  of  diction 
and  power  of  description,  pro-eminent  as  the  ablest  work  on  Ornithology, 
and  now  published  at  a  moderate  price,  that  places  it  within  the  reach  of 
all.  Every  lover  of  birds,  every  school,  public  or  family  library  should 
have  this  book.  We  know  of  no  other  way  in  which  so  much  pleasure,  so 
much  information,  and  so  much  usefulness  can  bo  had  for  the  price. 


16  PORTER  &  COATES'   PUBLICATIONS. 


AMERICAN  CHESS  PLAYER'S  HAND-BOOK.  Teaching  the 
Rudiments  of  the  Game,  and  giving  an  Analysis  of  all  the 
recognized  openings.  Exemplified  by  appropriate  Games  act- 
ually played  by  Paul  Morphy,  Harrwitz,  Anderssen,  Staunton, 
Paulson,  Montgomery,  Meek,  and  others.  From  the  works  of 
Stauuton  and  others.  Illustrated.  16mo.  Cloth,  extra,  $1.25. 

AMERICAN  GARDENER'S  ASSISTANT.  Containing  complete 
Practical  Directions  for  the  Cultivation  of  Vegetables,  Flowers, 
Fruit  Trees,  and  Grape  Vines.  By  THOMAS  BEIDGMAN.  New 
edition,  revised  and  enlarged,  by  S.  EDWARDS  TODD.  With 
70  illustrations.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $2.00. 

DISEASES  OF  THE  HORSE,  AND  HOW  TO  TREAT  THEM. 
A  concise  Manual  of  Special  Pathology,  for  the  use  of  Horse- 
men, Farmers,  Stock  Raisers,  and  Students  in  Agricultural 
Colleges.  By  ROBEET  CHAWNEE.  Illustrated.  12nio.  Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

JERSEY,  ALDERNEY,  AND  GUERNSEY  COWS.  Their  His- 
tory, Nature,  and  Management.  Edited  from  the  writings  of 
Edward  P.  Fowler,  George  E.  Waring,  Jr.,  Charles  L.  Sharp- 
less,  Prof.  John  Gamgee,  C.  P.  Le  Cornu,  Col.  Le  Couteur, 
Prof.  Magne,  Fr.  Gucnon,  Dr.  Twaddell,  and  others,  by 
WILLIS  P.  HAZAED.  8vo.  Illustrated  with  about  30  engrav- 
ings, diagrams,  etc.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50. 

THE  TROTTING  HORSE  OF  AMERICA.  How  to  Train  and 
Drive  him,  with  Reminiscences  of  the  Trotting  Turf.  By 
HIEAM  WOODEUFF.  Edited  by  CHABLES  J.  FOSTEE.  Includ- 
ing an  Introductory  Notice  by  GEORGE  WILKES,  and  a  Bio- 
graphical Sketch  by  the  Editor.  20th  edition,  revised  and 
brought  down  to  1873,  and  containing  a  full  account  of  the 
famous  "  Rarus."  With  a  steel  portrait  of  the  author,  and  six 
engravings  on  wood  of  celebrated  trotters.  12mo.  Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold,  $2.50. 

PORTER  &  COATES'  INTEREST  TABLES.  Containing  accurate 
calculations  of  interest  at  J,  1,  2,  3,  3A,  4,  4i,  5,  6,  7,  8  and  10  per 
cent,  per  annum,  on  all  sums  from  $1.00  to  $10,000,  and  from 
one  day  to  six  years.  Also  some  very  valuable  tables,  calcu- 
lated by  John  E.  Coffin.  8vo.  Cloth,  extra,  $1.00. 

READY  RECKONER  (The  Improved,)  FORM  AND  LOGBOOK. 
The  Trader's,  Farmer's  and  Merchant's  useful  assistant.  Con- 
taining Tables  of  Values,  Wages,  Interest,  Scantling,  Board, 
Plank  and  Log  Measurements,  Business  Forms,  etc.  18mo. 
Boards,  cloth  back,  illustrated  cover,  25  cents. 


A     000  674  440     3 


